Lydia was Early?
by WithoutHesitation
Summary: AU to Lydia was Late. The idea is, Lydia still finds her mother's ring, but this time, it's a twelve year old Lydia! Not because she finds it earlier, but because she was born later... And this changes everything. Except of course, for Beetlejuice!
1. Not What He Expected

Beetlejuice… Will you be mine? May I possess you, heart, body and soul, rights and legalities? No? Well, it seems that I still don't own Beetlejuice… Too bad. Probably don't own Lydia either…

--

I give up! You win! I'll write more! (Alu, you know who I'm talking about...) Here's what I have to post so far... Hope it was worth the wait!

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He sat in the darkness, no need for the light anyway, and no choice, with the only lamp he owned currently broken. He must look like some miserable thing, sitting in that same damned chair night after night. Sure, sometimes he went out. Found himself some halfway decent looking thing, forgot about the past for a few hours. But always he came back here. To sit in this chair. To remember how he'd _failed_.

So close, that was the thing. He'd been so damn close to getting out for good. Now there was no chance in hell that anyone who knew his name would say it… And he was more restricted than ever before. Couldn't even visit the living world in any guise, unless someone called him. All because of her. That bitch.

The bottle hung from limp fingers, his eyes glazed not with drink, but anger. Remembering. All his work, all his effort, and he'd been thrown to the side like some discarded paper. And the plan had been perfect. Hell, he wouldn't have minded being married to the brat! She was pretty enough, and she'd get prettier as she grew… Breathers did that. Sometimes. Hell, who cared, it was that wonderful dark morbidity that had drawn him to her first… Beauty was meant to fade. Something that good should last.

But now he hated her. Hated her like some dark thick liquid that gathered in his chest, rotted blood pooling where it couldn't be seen, but weighted him down more, day after day. He'd never loved her. Hell, he didn't know what love was! But she would have been fun to pass the centuries with. If she hadn't stabbed him in the back.

_I did my part… No one can say I didn't!_ He took a long swig of the vile stuff in the bottle, missing, for an instant, more pleasant living world drinks. Gin. Rum. God, he missed whiskey. Nothing could really get him drunk anyway, he might as well drink something pleasant…

And nothing could make him forget. He was about to go for another drink anyway, when he found his bottle suspiciously empty. Third one that night. Desperately trying, and failing, to get drunk each night, was eating through his finances like nobody's business. He wondered if he even had enough left for another bottle.

_Sitting here, wasting my afterlife, while she goes on with living, like it ain't nothing!_ He threw the empty bottle to the side, and frustratingly, the force of his throw wasn't enough to shatter it. Instead it hit, with a solid, musical sound, and proceeded to roll carelessly across the floor. As if that didn't about sum up all his frustrations.

Suddenly the air in the stagnant apartment shifted, though no window was present to offer a breeze. He looked up, a frown playing across his lips, only to be dealt the shock of his afterlife as someone whispered his name. _Beetlejuice_… It was like fingers, small as a pixie's, running down the back of his neck. It gave him a solid, almost violent chill, and then he looked around warily. Who the hell would be calling him?

"Maybe… a way out?" He muttered to himself, not ready to trust this yet. He was a con man himself, he was all too ready for someone to con him in return… But, someone _had_ said his name. His eyes flicked across the darkness, as if some answer lay within his own shadows, and waited.

Nothing. Had someone said it on accident? It had to be someone who knew him though… Didn't it? Or at least, knew it was a name, and not some star in Astronomy Class. Not that that hadn't worked for a while, before Juno caught on.

His breath hissed out slowly between his teeth, annoyance and frustration. Was someone fucking teasing him now? _Bad idea_… He was ready to do a little venting, it'd been way too long since he'd had a good chance to use his juice, and if he found out who was messing with him…!

_Beetlejuice…_ This time it was more forceful, like a spark of energy that started somewhere in his skull, and zapped welcomingly down his spine. His face split in a slow smile, not yet ready to believe his luck. Only a few people out there knew that name, so it stood to reason that one of them was calling him. His stomach lurched a little at the thought of Olivia… But he banished the reaction just as quickly. If she was calling him for help again, the little bitch was in for a surprise this time!

The air in the room was moving more quickly, but still, the name was not repeated a third time. The murmur, the promise of it, was enough to make his hair stand on end, and make him gnash his teeth. _Come on, come on…!_ Hell, what was taking so long?

_Beetlejuice?_ This last was a question, but he didn't care. There it was! _There!_ He could get out! It tugged at him, every part of him, from his fingertips to his guts, and then he was spinning through darkness, laughing like a madman. His grin still didn't disappear when he found himself with both feet on thick shag carpeting, veiled in moonlight, and abruptly somewhere that seemed like it might be familiar.

Still pleased as punch, he turned to see just who it was that had called him… And his smile dropped, just a little. She was watching him, apparently surprised by the suddenness of his entrance, but otherwise completely unafraid. Rather, the eyes of the young girl who watched him were, decidedly curious.

He stared at her in disbelief. A kid, she couldn't be more than eleven, twelve. A flyaway mop of dark hair, gentle liquid eyes, and a tiny mouth pursed up in thought. She was dressed in black, from head to toe, with a stripe of black lipstick across her top lip, and a large spider hairpin that looked as if it had once been part of a Halloween costume.

And above it all, she looked unsettlingly familiar. "Who the hell are you?" He greeted her, annoyed with being put off his step. "How d'you know my name?"

The girl smiled, a slow sort of smile, full of secrets and mystery. "It's inside this ring." She told him easily, as if it were nothing at all for her to summon strange men to her bedroom every night. Strange _dead_ men. His eyes fixed on the tiny treasure she held, and his heart seized with fury. The ring. _His_ ring. "Are you Beetle-?"

"Argh!" He crossed the distance between them in a breath, pressing his heavy cold hand across her mouth. She yelped, and scooted away from him, still unafraid, but looking at him as if he were a bit mad. "Don't say my name!"

A puzzled look crossed her face. "But I just said it." She pointed out, narrowing her eyes slowly. "Why can't I say it again?"

"You just can't, okay?" He snarled, snatching the ring away from her. His temper cooled quickly then, but only to the point where it settled to a slow burn, as he regarded the slender band of metal between his fingers. "Where'd you get this, anyway?" He muttered at last, more irritated now than angry.

"Hmm." His eyes flicked back to her, and the expression on her face was the same. Studying, thoughtful. Finally a little wary. "I found it." She said at last, elaborating no more than this. "What are you doing here? Did you want it back?"

A small smirk finally returned to his features, a shadow of what it usually offered. "You called me, kid." He informed her, matter-of-factly. Belatedly, he held up three fingers. "You say my name three times… Here I am."

A small sound with her tongue, as she continued to watch him like a bug in a jar. "And if I say it three more times?" She prompted softly.

His smirk turned to a scowl. This kid caught on way too fast… "If you're smart, you won't do that." He growled softly. His threat though, seemed to have little effect on her, other than deepening her frown. Admittedly, he started to feel a little desperate. She sent him away, that was it. For good. No amount of threats could change that. Damn, he'd have to do this the hard way…

"You don't want to do that," He tried again, managing a return of his self-assured smirk, "Then you won't find out anything, will you?" He knew immediately from the slight shift of her features that he'd made a point… And found her weakness. Now he was really grinning. He even cackled a little, pulling himself up on her dresser, and making himself comfortable. "So now, babes… Let's make a deal, shall we?"

Again her lips flew into a frown, but she didn't really seem eager for him to leave yet. "My mom says not to make deals with the dead." She mused, surprisingly him briefly, "And there's no way you're not a ghost."

_I'm the ghost with the most, babes…_ He actually started to say it, then cut himself off quickly, literally choking on the words. A more important question was who her mom was, telling her something like that. And since the girl had Olivia's ring, he already had a pretty good guess. "Oh yeah?" He drawled slowly, doing his best to remain calm, for now. "What else your moms tell you, kid?"

This time the pause was slightly longer, before she answered bluntly, "She told me that the devil wears a striped suit."

He couldn't help but grin a little at this, before doing a double-take, and looking down at himself. _Am I still wearing…? Oh hell, I am. _He snorted, resigned to things getting interesting, and admittedly curious to see where it would lead him. He had been pretty bored, the last decade or so.

Just how long had it been, anyway?

He brushed it away, for now, because the girl, despite what she'd just said, still hadn't tried to say his name again. This, despite knowing full well that _he_ was the one her mother had warned her about, and he knew himself that she sure as hell fucking should. Probably figured she could any time though… Overconfidence. He loved that quality in the living.

"All right, no deals." He agreed easily, not really bothered that this opportunity had been denied so quickly… At least for the moment. "So, your moms ever got anything good to say about me?"

"Mom never said anything else about you. Just that." She no lingered seemed intimated by him… Well, she never had, but no longer really wary either. That could only work in his favor… But he was a little disappointed by her answer. "So, that ring. Is it a wedding ring?"

"Supposed to be…" He muttered, still quite sore over this point. He stared at the little thing like it was what had betrayed him, rather than simply becoming a symbol of his betrayal.

"So why wasn't it?" She pressed, rocking forward on her hands now.

"Eh." He held up one finger, shaking it a little. "Nuh-uh kid, my turn." Patiently the girl tilted her head, letting several long strands of shiny silk fall over one eye, but didn't protest it. Apparently, they'd worked out a system, without ever settling on a verbal deal. "So what's your name, kid? Gotta know who I'm spilling my guts to, here…" He resisted the urge to show her his guts, just to freak her out a little. That was his style, but in this instance, it could only backfire.

The girl drew herself up, balling her hands into fists on the skirt of her dress, and considered him in a way that seemed far beyond her years. She had an, old soul, people called it. The way her eyes seemed to peer right through him made him a little uneasy, too… "Lydia." She answered suddenly, smiling for a reason he couldn't see. "And I guess I know yours, so…" Again, the curious look. "Why wasn't it a wedding ring?"

Ah, this was tricky territory. He wanted to answer honestly, to avoid being bitten in the ass later, but he also had to give her only answers that would work to his benefit. "Broad stood me up at the altar." He grunted, finally allowing some trace of his annoyance to show. "Well, Lydia…" Then he broke off, turning the name over in his head. Lydia? That was no name for a kid… Way too serious. "Lyds." He amended, before considering her through lidded eyes. Well, it was a waste of a question, but hell. "Your old lady's name wouldn't happen to be Olivia, would it?"

An expression he couldn't read crossed her face, almost… He swore she'd expected better of him. Like she was disappointed by such an obvious question. "Yeah…" She looked a little bored, and lifted a stuffed mummy into her hand, picking at the bandages. It looked like she'd made it herself. He waited, patiently. He could afford to be patient. He'd waited this long. "So… She's the one that stood you up, right?"

Couldn't get a thing past this kid, apparently. "Yeah." He grunted, suddenly getting bored with this game of questions and answers himself. He stood, brushing off his coat, which was admittedly pretty nasty. Not that it helped. "Look Lyds, I'm going out for a while. Do me a favor, and don't tell your moms you called me, okay?" When she looked uneasy at this, he just grinned. "Come on… She sends me away, how you going to get any more dirt on her?"

Slowly Lydia nodded, a decidedly impish look of her own creeping across her features. She liked secrets, he could tell. Mischief, certainly. He'd almost swear that she even liked him… But that would probably be pushing it. "I mean, it's not like I couldn't ask Adam or Barb," She went on, surely not noticing how he tensed at the familiar, and unwelcome names, "But they'd never tell me anything _bad_…"

The Maitland's. Hell. He hadn't figured on them still being part of the happy family. But clearly _bad _was exactly what this kid wanted to hear… She was a troublemaker, and he had no problem with that. He gave her his wildest grin, and saw an answering glint in her eyes. "See you soon, babes." He cackled, his power once more swirling about him like a shadow wind, "This devil's got some hell to raise!"

--

Olivia was in a hurry at the moment, pinching her dangling black earrings in as she hurried through the living room… And pausing, at the utterly incongruous sight of her daughter Lydia, watching the news. At first she'd just started to press past, but as this slowly sank in, she considered the girl again. Lydia never watched the news. Anything worthy of being called news in Winter River was far too boring for her.

"What are you doing, hon?" Her mother prompted slowly, forgetting for a minute the reservation they had to make in like, ten minutes. "Can't you find anything better to watch?" For some reason, the sight of something so utterly normal from her daughter filled her with little chills of dread.

"I'm looking for trouble." Lydia answered matter-of-factly, a twisted little smile on her lips. Olivia let this too, sink in for a moment. It was just the sort of thing the girl would say, a sort of irony on why anyone watched the news, as there was seldom any good to be had. But why tonight? What was she up to?

Olivia finally shook her head, leaving her daughter on the couch, trying to tell herself that it was just her imagination. Yes, the girl was going through a particularly odd phase at the moment, but she'd been through similar herself. The thing about phases, was that invariably, one grew out of them.

At least that's what she told herself, smoothing her long black dress with the crimson breast, and small spiders flocking around her midsection. Her tiny skull earrings finished the outfit perfectly, and her miniature mourning veil tucked about an inch over her eyes, no more. Anyone who saw her, would assume she was getting ready for Halloween. Anyone who knew her though, would just say, 'Well, that's Olivia.'

Her husband came down the stairs, two at a time, a glint in his eyes very much like his daughter's. Seeing his wife there, his face broke out in a slow, positively devilish grin, and his gaze danced over every inch of her with a sense of intoxication. He straightened his tie, coming down the last few steps more slowly, a vision, like her, of dark colors, though his suit fit far more perfectly. He couldn't take his eyes off her.

And of course, she loved it. She was his addiction, and quite frankly, that was the way she intended to keep it. How far the two of them had come since high school… He stopped before her, offering his arm elegantly. "Shall we?" He murmured, not realizing that the familiar words, even after all this time, still sent a tiny chill down her back.

"You two have fun, and don't worry about a thing!" Barbara had appeared from, well, wherever she appeared from when she was out of sight, and beamed down at them with her usual gentle smile. "Adam and I will take care of Lydia…"

Olivia's eyebrows twitched, just a little, but she smiled. Having live-in babysitters was great, and something she often took advantage of… Probably too often. "You're sure you don't mind?" She prompted slowly, unable to banish just a tiny trace of guilt.

"Not at all, we love spending time with our goddaughter!" Barb waved them away, coming down the stairs, despite her simple outfit, with the grace of any faery from one of the old stories. "Besides, it's been almost a month since you two have spent any time alone… You need this, Liv!"

_Liv_. She tried not to dwell on just when she'd come upon this particular nickname. The fact was, she liked it, regardless. "Hmm. Well…" She sighed, and cast a glance in her daughter's general direction. "Just keep an eye on her, please. I get this feeling something's, off."

"How can you tell?" Barbara mused, making the woman laugh shortly, in agreement. "Look, whatever's going on, I'm sure it's nothing. You two, go have _fun_."

Edmond cast Barbara a grateful look, swinging his arm gracefully over his wife's shoulder. "Have I ever mentioned that you're the best, Barb?" He asked matter-of-factly, only to be elbowed gently by the woman he loved. "Ah, second best." He rolled his eyes to Olivia warily. "I'm certain I said that."

"Of course you did, dear." Olivia agreed sweetly, still looking mock daggers at him.

Barbara watched them leave, then descended the stairs once they were gone, peeking in at Lydia. Well, she was watching TV, nothing too odd in that. The news was a strange choice, but… Maybe there was just nothing good on tonight. "Anything interesting happening?" She asked easily, coming to sit on the couch beside the girl.

"Not yet." Lydia murmured enigmatically, still seeming quite content to watch the discussion on the mayor's latest speech, and how it would affect his campaign. She sat with her knees drawn up to her chest, her flyaway hair cascading over her face. She hated doing anything with it, Barbara knew.

But that didn't stop her from asking, anyway. "Would you like me to put your hair up?" Maybe tonight would be the night the little goth girl agreed. She missed helping Olivia with all her odd little styles, when she'd been younger… But Lydia had never really made it an option.

"No." There wasn't even a brief consideration behind it. She hated her hair being messed with. Barbara sighed, and gave it up once more as a lost cause. But the news, as it traditionally was in Winter River, was boring.

Barb tried another tactic. "Want to watch a movie?" She prompted now, deciding anything would be better than another minute of how the major intended to crack down on the, pretty much nonexistent, crime in their town. Lydia made a noncommittal sound, not really interested. "We can watch The Exorcist, your favorite!" Even if the concept personally brought up bad memories for her…

The girl finally turned her eye to her, clearly considering it. She opened her mouth to say something, only to be interrupted by a sudden news bulletin, superseding whatever it was the politician had deemed so important. Right in the middle of his speech on cracking down on crime, no less.

"We're here with you at the Winter River Liquor Store, where an unarmed man apparently broke in only minutes ago, and left, single-handedly, with half the store's merchandise!" This was apparently, very exciting, because the newscaster couldn't keep it out of his voice. It was probably the most interesting thing he'd ever had to report… "When asked how one man could accomplish this, unaided, the store clerk had little to say."

At this moment, a rather crazy-eyed man ran into the camera, cutting the other off as he grabbed it with both hands, and stared wildly out into the world. "He wasn't human, I tell you!" He cried, panicked. "I tell you, he _wasn't human_!"

Soft laughter drifted up from beside her, while Barbara was staring in confusion at the obviously traumatized man. She looked in surprise to see Lydia holding her fist to her mouth, fighting back what looked like a case of the giggles. Her eyes danced a little, in the flickering of the television…

The TV shut off, and Lydia froze angrily, turning with a frown to Barbara. "Why'd you do that?" She protested, obviously annoyed. "I was watching!"

Barbara just shook her head, her lips pressing into a thing line. "That's enough for one night." She said simply, as if this made any sense at all. "It's getting late, why don't you go get ready for bed?" It was of course, only eight o'clock, and they both knew it was a ridiculous request.

The girl stared at her for a moment, anger building in her dark eyes, only to slowly subside, and be replaced with a tolerant affection. "You worry about me too much, Barb." She said at last, reaching over, and giving the ghost woman a small hug. "You gotta admit, it was kinda funny…"

For a moment, she still adamantly denied it… But after a moment, her godmother's lips too, began to twitch. "Maybe." She allowed at last. "But it wasn't funny to him. The poor man's obviously been through something terrible…"

Lydia made a small, indelicate sound. "You know anything scares the living out of their skin." She informed the other matter-of-factly, as if simply not counting herself among those she referred to. "He probably just saw a ghost, and freaked out. And it's not like he got hurt." Her eyes scanned Barbara's for a moment more. "Come on… Let me watch?"

She almost gave in. Almost. "You can go read." She said instead, making the girl give her a small, frustrated glance, before getting off the couch and skulking away.

Barbara sighed in frustration. That girl was so much harder to deal with, than Olivia had ever been…

--

It was going on eleven-thirty, and despite having been sent to bed hours before, Lydia Deetz was not yet sleeping. Of course, it wasn't entirely her fault. Barbara had told her to read, and so she was reading. Rereading, actually. Dracula. It was a classic. And though she'd read it many times before, she had to see how it would end. Again. Even if it did always disappoint her.

Besides, who knew what might decide to make an appearance? She didn't want to fall asleep, and miss that… She'd had some time, and thought up quite a few new questions. Some were about her mom… But most were about _him_. Little inane questions. She wondered idly how far she could push him…

At eleven thirty-seven, on the dot, a sort of suctiony feeling filled the air, for about a breath, followed by a small, distinct 'pop.' Pressure relieved. And poltergeist, sitting on her dresser once more, a pleased with himself look plastered across his pale and grimy face. She stared at him, fascinated, for about a minute, before he seemed to notice. "What are you still doing up?" He grumbled, pretending he wasn't in a pretty darn good mood, from the looks of things.

"Reading." She anticipated his next question, and lifted the book, so he could see the cover. He squinted a little, like he might need glasses, though this could simply be because she only had the one small lamp for reading by. "So, why rob a liquor store?"

He blinked, considering her for upwards of a minute, a bit curiously. Then he laughed. "Got nothing better to do than watch the news in this dull place, huh?" He reached into his pocket, pulling out a surprisingly large bottle, his fingers already reaching for the cap. "Because this living world shit's a hell of a lot better than the kind I've been drinking… And I've got no cash left, from drinking that."

"Half a liquor store?" She prompted, her lips twisted in amusement. "You're going to kill yourself. Again."

"Hell of a way to go…" He sighed, going for a long draw, before fixing his gaze on her again. "And for the record, I didn't kill myself the first time. Got into that whole bureaucratic shit for a whole other reason." She tilted her head, curiously, and he cackled, not answering her unspoken question. Going back to his drink instead.

Lydia watched the amber liquid, glinting fluidly in the low light. It teased around her mind a bit, wondering what was so good about it, that he'd steal so much. She'd snuck a taste of her dad's gin once, and quite frankly, it had been awful. "Can I have some?" She asked suddenly, wondering if he was the sort of guy who'd let a kid take a swig of his drink.

The ghost paused, looking a bit puzzled, and squinted his eyes at her. "How old are you, Lyds?" He prompted in return.

There was of course, the option of lying, but… "Twelve." She answered honestly, more curious to see if he'd do it anyway, than to actually have a taste of the stuff. "So?"

Beetlejuice snorted. "So, hell no!" He muttered, twisting the cap back on, and eyeing her warily. Like she might try to take it anyway. "You got enough time when you're older to piss your life away on this shit… Why would you want to start now?" He slid the bottle back into his pocket, and pulled out a cigarette instead.

Then he paused, raising his eyebrows, the slender thing clamped between his lips. "I suppose you want to try this too?" He mocked her, grinning.

"Hell no." She denied vehemently. "That stuff's gross." She wrinkled her nose, to show further what she thought of it. Beetlejuice just laughed, saying something about her mother not raising her half bad after all… "Anyway, you smoke that in here, I'll get in trouble!"

He paused, match an inch from lighting up, and considered her warily. Maybe seeing how far he could press her? A moment later, he chortled, and lit up anyway. "Not my problem, babes." He informed her smugly. "You're a creative kid, you figure it out."

Annoyed, Lydia put her book down, scooted off the end of the bed, and went to open a window. He watched her, amused both by her temper, and the funeral shroud of a nightgown she was wearing, swishing around her ankles. Definitely Olivia's kid.

She paused for a moment, taking a deep breath of the chill outside air, and gave a little shiver, before dashing back to her bed, and jumping under the covers. Her breath hissed between her teeth as, still a bit irritated, she gave the ghost on her dresser a little glare. "You know, you shouldn't try to get me in trouble," She told him, in no uncertain terms, "If my mom finds out I summoned you, I'm going to get in trouble enough as it is."

True. And that made him grin, cackling. "But you ain't told her, have you, kid?" She tried to look defiant, certainly she didn't look afraid, but the little girl was playing right into his hands… She had no answer to this, so he leaned against the wall, took a slow drag, and released the smoke in the form of a long, winding snake, complete with rattle.

"Deadly-vu…" She hissed, abruptly forgetting her anger, as he'd known she would. "Do that again!"

"You like that?" He smirked, turning the cigarette over between his fingers. "I thought this stuff was disgusting… Okay, hold on." He took another deep drag, thought a minute, and blew a round pale skull, all in wafts of blue grey, with bugs crawling through its hollow eyes.

The girl's own eyes, meanwhile, were wide as saucers. She was no longer grasping the blanket around her like a mighty protective shield… She'd crawled to the end of her bed, her fingers curled excitedly, as he dazzled her with one cheap trick after another. She seemed to have forgotten any worry about her room smelling like smoke.

"Okay, something really creepy, this time!" She demanded, having crawled all the way off the bed now, and standing roughly two feet in front of him. Utterly unintimidated by his own creepy presence. He eyed her a little warily… She looked like she was ready to crawl into his frickin lap for a better view!

"Real creepy, huh?" He muttered, turning this over in his mind. "Okay, but that's it, 'cause this is boring the shit out of me." Actually it wasn't, but he wasn't about to tell her that… Truth was, he loved an audience. He thought about it a minute, then blew a smoke cloud that looked, actually, remarkably like the goth girl standing in front of him, looking back at her through wide, hollow eyes.

This finally got a reaction. For about a minute she just stared, too surprised for words, then jumped back with an excited little yelp… Excitement, he saw, not fear. Her eyes were dancing, and her lips twisted into an absolutely delighted little grin. After a moment, she came forward again, wafting her hand through the smoke. It held its image anyway, for about another three seconds, before dissipating into nothing.

Lydia laughed, a light little sound, utterly without any creepy factor whatsoever, and scrambled back up onto her bed, eyes fixed on him with fascination. He was feeling pretty good about himself too, actually, even if they were just a few amateur tricks that couldn't impress anyone but a kid.

"Got your entertainment? Good. Now go the hell to sleep." He grunted, leaning back against the wall again, debating with himself whether he too was tired enough to sleep.

Now, once again, her mood did a complete one-eighty, and she looked at him with absolutely no trace of fondness on her face. "Go to sleep?" She repeatedly skeptically. "And what are you going to do?"

He shrugged, not really sure himself. "Dunno. Hide out here until morning, I guess. Never expect me in here…" He realized at this point that she looked decidedly unhappy with his plan. "What? What's the deal? I'm not throwing you out of your damn bed… Just roll over and go to sleep!"

Lydia gave him a look impressively resembling a scowl. "And how do I know you're not going to try something?" She demanded of him.

The ghost with the most choked on his cigarette, for about the first time in fifty years. "You gotta be fucking kidding me…" He muttered, pulling it free from his lips, and giving her a little glare. "Do I look like a fucking pedophile to you? You know what," He waved away her next words, "Don't answer that."

He considered her with an angry little glare for about a minute after this, but she amazingly, never looked away, holding her end of it quite well. "It's like this, kid," He said at last, gesturing in her direction with the hand he was using to hold the thing, "I've gone after them young, sure, but not that _fucking _young. I'm a sick bastard, but a guy's gotta know where to draw the line, you get me?"

Back between his lips, with his eyes looking nothing so much as insulted as he continued glaring at her. And the little bitch glared right back, not knowing when the hell to back off! "Fine, whatever!" He sulked at last, pushing himself off the dresser, "You want me gone too? I'm gone!" He flicked the cigarette off to the side, and floated through the wall, right out into second story air.

Damn brat seriously unsettled him… Had to be because she was Olivia's kid…

--

The chill seemed to be coming from Lydia's room… Barbara cracked the door a little, peering through the shadows that draped every inch of the girl's private little world, trying to see if the window was open. Her lips settled into a patient little grimace as she saw that it was, and crossed the space easily, phasing through, rather than tripping over, the clutter on the floor.

Her hands on the sill, she gave it a solid push, letting the pane slide down soundlessly. Only then did she turn her attention to the cause of the trouble… Sound asleep in her bed, tucked far too tightly into her covers, and shivering slightly. She looked like she could use another blanket. Shrugging, Barbara drew one from her closet, and without a sound, spread it over her sleeping goddaughter. She made a mental note to have a word with her in the morning… It was far too late in the year to fall asleep with the window open.

As she started back to the door, she paused, taking in a deep breath, as something in the air of the room seemed, off to her. Smoke? Was she smelling smoke? Was that why Lydia's window had been open? She gazed disapprovingly at the sleeping girl… She would have thought her too smart to mess with cigarettes, but there was no mistaking _that _for incense.

"Lydia Deetz…" She murmured under her breath, finally closing the door, and letting her get some sleep. She was lucky that it was a school night though, or she would wake the girl up now and have it out with her!

_Everyone goes through these things… Even you tried smoking once… _Of course, not when she was Lydia's age! She still tried to wave her worries away, so wrapped up in her own thoughts that she didn't notice Adam until he'd snagged her around the waist, dropping a light kiss on the side of her neck.

"Ai!" She managed to keep it down to a surprised squeak, then laughed, turning accusing brown eye up to him. "Adam Maitland!" She managed, in an approximation of anger. "You scared the life out of me!"

Adam just chuckled, straightening his glasses, and giving her his sexiest look over them. "Lydia's asleep," He murmured, reaching for her again, "Olivia and Edmond will probably be out until morning… Barbara honey, when was the last time we had the house to ourselves?"

Despite herself, his wife's lips twitched, just a little. "I dunno…" She teased, grabbing his hand, and tucking it coyly around her middle. "You know I stopped keeping track of things like that years ago…" His lips met hers, a decided beckoning, as he drew her up the stairs, to where they could be alone. Damn if he couldn't still seduce her like they were a couple of kids.

Barbara's laughter drifted down the empty hall, as for a while, she completely forgot about her living goddaughter, and her bizarre moods…

--


	2. A Troublemaker

Beetlejuice… Will you be mine? May I possess you, heart, body and soul, rights and legalities? No? Well, it seems that I still don't own Beetlejuice… Too bad. Probably don't own Lydia either…

--

The updates won't always be this prompt, so enjoy. And as usual, I'm my own worst critic. I hope.

--

He sat, invisibly of course, outside Olivia's window. Still had the same damn room she'd had when she was a kid… He was currently watching her dress, unapologetically. Hell, if she wanted privacy, she should close the damn curtains! Her gown had slid past her shoulders without protest, revealing a woman whose shape had changed remarkably little over the years. Life was usually a bit harder on breathers… But hell, she looked good.

She wore black everything, from her black dress, to her black stockings, to her lacy black under things. The girl hadn't changed a bit. Except for, you know, filling out a bit more on top, and growing out her hair until it fell to the top of her sexy little butt… Sinuous, was the word he'd use to describe her. But she sure as hell wasn't a kid anymore.

Starting to get uncomfortable, physically, he shifted, still content with watching. Hadn't seen her face yet after all, she'd just about kept her back to him the entire time. Not that he minded the view. Then snap, there goes the bra… Creamy shoulders, pale skin… Ah, and she slipped her night thing over her head, without turning around. Damn.

Still no sign of her hubby… Maybe she'd been out all night partying. The kid's dad could be long since history by now, stuff like that happened all the time. Not that he was thinking he might still have a chance, or anything. Bitch had betrayed him, left him in that hellhole long enough for her to have a kid, and then some. Now he just wanted revenge. And the first part of it, was taking away any ideas she might have, of having him out of her life.

"Honey?" Her voice sent little shivers down his spine, like cold milk running down his skin. She was talking to someone… not him. Dad must still be around then. "Are you sure it's okay if you go into work late?"

_Enter the competition_, Beetlejuice thought darkly, as the bathroom door swung open, and out stepped a guy everything he wasn't. He wondered at himself briefly for thinking of the guy this way, competition, but mostly stewed over Mr. Chiseled Features, self assured and muscular, currently draping himself across the body of _his_ former fiancé.

And Olivia of course, turned into the embrace with a sensual little shimmy, a bright smile, and endless dark eyes, adoring the fucking son-of-a-bitch… Beetlejuice found himself desiring, very strongly, to hit something. Anything. Especially him.

"Enough…" He muttered, as their cute little kissing session quickly proved to be escalating to something more, dropping away from the window in frustration. No way in hell he needed to see that…

He paused at the sight of the girl, Lyds, hopping onto her bicycle some length below, apparently utterly uninterested in whatever was currently keeping her mother and father busy. She was struggling with her helmet, which looked too big, and also with the bike itself, which looked designed for someone far younger. At least it wasn't pink.

Dropping down behind her, he considered greeting her with a small scare, when her head tilted to the side, and in a small voice, she whispered, "That you?" Well, this set him off his game a little. She wasn't expecting him, couldn't see him, and still somehow knew he was there?

She confirmed it a moment later, turning her head, to look directly at him. Her eyes squished up a little, as if in this way, she could see him better, then shrugged, and sighed. "I gotta get to school… Try not to kill anyone while I'm gone." And with this, she kicked off, and managed remarkably well to ride the small bicycle away.

Beetlejuice pursed his lips, made a bit curious by how easily she'd sensed him, and thought nothing of it, not even questioning her instincts. With his current options being hanging around here with the lovebirds, and maybe getting spotted by the Maitland's, or following the kid, the second seemed pretty reasonable.

But what the hell kind of fun would that be? She was just some damn kid… Even if she was Olivia's kid. No way, after waiting that long to get out of the Neitherworld… It was time for something fun. His lips curled into his familiar smirk, as he reflected that something fun for him, always seemed to involve passing a hell of a lot of paperwork, across his former boss's desk.

But of course, that _was_ one of the best parts.

--

Lydia _hated_ school. This was due in no small part to the fact that she was well known as her mother's daughter… The woman who celebrated Halloween year round, and thought nothing of it. Now, normally, this was actually the one quality she could stand in the woman, but to everyone else? Her mom was a freak, and she was a little copycat freak. Forget that she had entirely her own style of creepy.

The bike was too small, but as always, she was determined not to say a word to her parents about it. She hated arguing with them, and they always failed to see her side of things. No matter how reasonable she was! Those two existed in their own little world, she'd decided long ago, and she was just along for the ride. No use bitching.

Out of breath by the time the school came into sight, Lydia dropped her bike carelessly against the spotless brick wall, grimacing at the loud metallic sound of steel on stone. She no longer bothered locking it up, since everyone pretty much though it was a joke, and would only steal it on a gag. Heck, if someone stole it, maybe she could finally get a new one!

Her hair was sweaty, and stuck to her scalp by the loose fitting helmet, tossed into an even more careless version of messy than usual. Running her fingers through it, she enjoyed the brush of autumn breeze through the soft strands, then automatically made a quick check, for allies, or enemies.

Unfortunately, there were none of the former in sight, and one, just one, of the latter. Of course, she only really had one enemy. Gaudy lipstick, pressed perfect everything, not a thread out of place, Claire Brewster. Several years Lydia's elder, she had no idea why the girl had seemed to forge a personal grudge against her. But on more than one occasion, that grudge had produced nasty results.

Narrowing her eyes at hell's personal enforcer of the preppy all girl school, Lydia slunk back into the side of the building, hoping to go unnoticed. Not that she ever ran from a fight. Even if she never won. But she was already brewing enough trouble with that character she'd summoned the night before, and at least for now, avoiding her parents' notice seemed best. Which meant, for now, avoiding Claire's.

But slow-witted though the girl was, in Lydia's esteem, she attracted quite the gaggle of followers, and it was almost inevitable that one of them spot the younger goth girl. It was like watching a badly written play at a distance, imagining what they said as they giggled, pointed, and one by one, turned their gazes to her.

There had to be ten of them. Lydia bared her teeth in something like a smile, though she turned her head to conceal it. Maybe they'd walk past. Part of her hoped they wouldn't. The bitch had knocked one of her teeth loose last time, and she'd almost had to walk around for the rest of her life, with a missing front tooth. She itched to get back at her for that. Instead she inspected her bike, as if she hadn't even noticed them.

"Lydia!" A slight, unconscious flinch crossed her skin, having expected an attack, and only slowly did she relax, a true smile gracing her lips this time. That level of bubbly personality could only be Bertha. She lifted her head to confirm it. Yep, long legs, gangly, skinny, and with a smile that looked like it would hurt after a while. One of Lydia's only two friends among the living.

And there was the other, her shadow, bright orange hair, like something from a hair dye experiment gone wrong, glasses too big for her face, and despite her additional years, no taller than Lydia herself. Unlike Bertha, she wasn't smiling. She'd noticed Claire. "I think we should get out of here…" She murmured, in her often unheard little tone.

True to fashion, her taller friend didn't listen to a word she said. "I can't believe we caught you!" Bertha proclaimed, grabbing Lydia by both arms, and giving her a little squeeze. The girl did her best to bear it in good humor, considering they were the focus of so many stares. "We were about to leave… We thought you'd be late for class for sure!"

"Bertha? Lydia? Um, I think we should…" Prudence never actually finished that sentence, which was a habit of hers. She seemed to think many things went without being said, and so just didn't say them, but Lydia suspected that this wasn't the case this time.

"Looks like the gang's all here!" Came the falsely cheery voice of the private school's self appointed queen. "My god, could you be any more of a mess?" This was directed, as usual, at Lydia. "Did you stop to play in a garbage dump on your way to school?" A light, disgusted noise. "It's no wonder these two losers are drawn to you like bugs…"

Lydia made a very soft sound, under her breath, steeled herself, and lifted her head with a smile. As always, whatever her blond arch nemesis saw in the Goth's dark eyes, set her off her step. And as always, for reasons she never bothered to explain, this pissed her off to no end.

Her lip curled in a sneer, and something greedy sparked in her eyes, like an animal that's just seen something it wants to tear apart. "You pathetic little pimple," She hissed, seeming to grow more infuriated by the moment, as Lydia didn't break her gaze, or stop smiling, "Someone should have popped that smug look of yours a long time ago!"

Sensing victory, and also possibly a beating, Lydia lidded her gaze, tilted her head a little, and asked matter-of-factly, "Do you know, those stockings you're wearing are exactly the same shade as the puss sample that our science teacher made us look at under a microscope yesterday? Only at least on the slide, it was a lot easier to look away…"

"Run Lydia!" Bertha had each of her friends' arms in one hand before she got the last words out, and even as a slow eruption of fury went off behind them, they were already bolting across the freshly cut lawn. The sounds of many patent leather shoes followed, as Lydia celebrated her briefly won triumph, well aware she'd pay for it later. Despite the fear apparent in the older girl's face, she was laughing, which made it doubly hard for her not to trip over her own feet.

Prudence too, was dissolved into giggles, and finally she was the one that didn't pay enough attention to her feet, falling helplessly before their pursuers. Lydia yanked her hand free, never one to abandon a friend, balled up both fists, and charged back into the fray with a mad glint to her eyes…

"What is going on here!" It was more a shout of fury than a question, and every girl there froze, turning their heads guiltily to look on one of the upper level teachers. Only Lydia never stopped grinning. Prudence pretended to be studying one of the books she'd dropped. Everyone else looked like a deer caught in headlights.

The teacher, Miss Shannon, she thought her name was, quickly took in the now rather familiar sight before her, and immediately singled Lydia out as the cause of the trouble. No doubt due to the fact that she seemed to be enjoying it the most. A slow, angry intake of breath, before, "Miss Deetz! I will not have this display at my school! This is not the first time this has happened!"

Lydia fixed her most innocent smile on her face, tilted her head in the manner she had, and did her best to play a part she was never meant to play. "We were just hurrying to class Miss Shannon." She lied with a straight face, her tone sweet as honey. "The bell's about to…" As if this were a cue, or perhaps as if she just had an extraordinary sense of timing, the bell chose that moment of ring.

Miss Shannon of course, was not fooled for a moment. "I will see you after school, Miss Deetz." She said softly, taking one step back, before turning around, and walking away. The desire to fight sang through every one of the girl's behind her, but at a pause, and a sharply cleared throat, they dissipated to a one, for class.

Lydia of course, was well aware she'd avoided nothing… Not for long anyway.

--

He was haunting a goddamn yard. Winter River was more boring than he remembered, and what was worse, the few resident ghosts he'd ever been able to stomach had apparently crossed over in the time he'd been away. Not that a single one had bothered looking him up in the afterlife… And with Olivia being hovered over at all times by those idiots inside, Beetlejuice had finally produced a deck of cards, gone up on the roof, and proceeded to throw them out, one at a time, into the tops of the nearby trees.

This being out shit was worthless, if he couldn't get out enough to keep from getting called back. Olivia was married now, damn if he didn't regret it, as much as he still hated her. Still all swept up in creepy and dark, like when she'd been a kid. He supposed if he hung around a while, he could eventually marry her daughter. Girl might even have some of her mother's looks… He just had to play nice until she was old enough.

Snorting, Beetlejuice turned the ace of spades between his fingers a few times, reflecting that someone, somewhere, had to be better suited for the arrangement. He just couldn't see himself hanging out with a kid for three or four years, until she was 'old enough…'

Remembering the morbid fascination in her eyes the night before though, as she hung on his every trick, still made him smile. Apparently the Maitlands were still a couple of sticks-in-the-asses, if that impressed her. But that girl… She was just bursting with pent-up energy, humming with life like it poured out her fingertips. And like him, she was just looking for trouble.

If she were older, it would be a match made in heaven. Maybe hell. But as it was, she was just his ex's brat. He pursed his lips, flung the ace into empty air, and watched as it fluttered down…

Pausing at the sight of the very kid in question, now pushing her bike home, rather than riding. He narrowed his eyes, wondering why she was walking funny. Was she limping? What the hell kind of trouble could a kid her age get into, in that short amount of time?

She looked up as the ace landed at her feet, and he was startled to see a rather large bruise now neatly gracing much of her face, and dried blood that had come from god only knew where. When she turned to the side though, and spat, it was clear that much of it came from her mouth. She looked in a foul mood, but that didn't explain the soft laughter coming from her lips.

"My mom, is going to kill me." She said to him matter-of-factly, as if he were right there in front of her, and not on the roof. "She said that if I got in one more fight, she was going to paint my room pink." She spat again, tested a tooth with her finger, and even as he dropped down before her, frowning, asked lightly. "Think she'll believe I fell off my bike?"

Beetlejuice bent down, grabbed her by the chin with one hand, and tipped her face up sharply. She hissed, but otherwise didn't complain. "What the hell tried to kill you?" He asked bluntly, forgetting for a moment that he wasn't even visible yet. Not that it seemed to matter to the girl. "'Cause they did a piss poor job of it, if you're still breathing!"

"Eh, they'll keep trying until they get it right." She brushed him aside, straightened slowly, and looked up at the house with a frown. "Give them some pointers, it'll take less time." He snorted, still considering her dubiously, as she wiped a thick smear of red from her face with a torn sleeve. "Now they, on the other hand," She gestured vaguely behind him, "_They _are going to kill me."

For reasons he didn't quite comprehend, it annoyed him to see her beat up like this. She was just a damn kid, what the hell could she have done to deserve it? Looked like a few people had helped too… As he watched, she bent over, picked up the card he'd dropped, and looked at it with a little frown. "This is supposed to be bad luck, right?" She reflected, handing it to him. "Not sure about the rest of them, but the ace of spades… that's like the death card, right?"

"Forget the damn card!" It was surprisingly close to anger, and immediately he quieted his voice, wondering irritably where that had come from. "You're a breather, kid. You take too many beatings like this one though, that's not going to last. You in that big a hurry to be on this side?"

Lydia looked up at him, her eyes like darkness swept up into deep little pools, and shook her head with a frown. "I don't like, Claire." She said simply, as if that explained why she apparently didn't care that she'd just gotten her ass kicked. "The girl needs to be buried up to her neck… Upside down. Under water." A pause, then as an afterthought, "In cement."

His eyebrows swept up. "A chick did this to you?" He asked, though he supposed he shouldn't be surprised. Women did fight dirty…

"About ten 'chicks.'" She corrected bluntly, pulling what looked like a broken sucker out of her pocket. She twisted the stick off, popped it in her mouth, and made a face. "Thing tastes like blood…" She muttered aloud, as if this were strange.

"So, anyway," She went on, her words garbled by the mouthful of sweet, "I have to go get reamed by the living and the dead… Nothing strange about that." A pause then, and a slow look of satisfaction. "Gotta tell you though… Claire? She's gonna need a lot of make-up tomorrow."

Beetlejuice turned this too, over in his mind. "Look, kid…" He started, irritated with her for getting beat up, which would only make her mother readier than usual to send his own name up his ass. "I gotta figure this is something you do a lot, right? So try not to drag me into it, and you can do whatever the hell you want." With that, he shoved his hands in his pockets, and returned to the roof. This was her problem. Let her deal with it.

"I appreciate your concern!" She yelled to the world at large, before throwing her bike, which looked broken, in the direction of the garage, and leaving it there. And as she limped into the house, Beetlejuice just watched, wondering if the whole damn family really was just crazy…

--

Lydia walked up the stairs to her room, her ears still ringing, and her various cuts raw with the stuff Barb had smeared on them. Through the whole thing, she'd been as distant as usual, until the group of adults pretty much gave up yelling at the girl, whose sole interest seemed to be the card she was turning over between her fingers, like it was some oddity.

As her hand rested on the doorknob though, she hesitated. Not because she was having second thoughts, her instructions to 'go there and stay there' had been pretty specific, but because she used that moment to hope that something entertaining lay on the other side of the door. He'd seemed pretty upset with her, not that she knew why.

Cracking the door, she peeked through, and found him reclining on her bed, looking up with a twisted little expression at her canopy, covered in odd symbols she'd drawn with a permanent marker. For a minute she just stared, before her cheeks flushed, hot and embarrassed. What was he doing on her bed? She'd never had a guy on her bed before… Well, Adam and her dad, but they didn't count.

Remembering how angry he'd been, she decided to blow off a little steam herself, and slammed the door behind her, not even making him sit up. "You know what all that shit you drew up there means?" He prompted, correctly assuming that she'd been the one to do the drawing. "'Cause if you're trying to summon what I think you're trying to summon, you made a few mistakes. Want some tips?"

"Not really." Her mouth drawn up, painfully she might add, she regarded him in her spot, and decided to take his instead. Not that pulling herself up on her dresser, in her current condition, was easy. She was still trying to do it, when she felt something grab her by the back of the shirt, heave her up, and drop her, rather carelessly. She turned with a glare to find him precisely where she'd left him.

"So here's the deal, kid." He began absently, as if this had been troubling him for a while now, "I tried to marry your moms back then, because she was my best way out."

"Out?" Lydia echoed slowly. "Out of where?"

He dismissed this with a flick of his fingers. "Don't interrupt, babes. So anyway, those Maitland yahoos had gotten themselves in a pretty nasty spot, and I agreed to save their sorry asses, if your moms would get hitched with me. Business arrangement. Nothing personal, no strings… So she says yes." And here he sat up, slowly, looking pissed. "And I save them, and they feed me to a goddamn sandworm!"

Lydia frowned. "Bum deal." She said slowly, not certain what a sandworm was, but pretty sure getting eaten by one wasn't much fun.

The poltergeist tilted his head, gave her a hiss through his teeth, and muttered, "You think? Anyway." He started digging through his pockets, continuing his story, while to all appearances ignoring her. "I get sent to sit in this shitty little waiting room, listening to elevator music, for… what, years? Only to get reamed out by Juno, for what she called," And here he bared his teeth again, "Unethical practices. I mean, what the hell?"

He trailed off after this, for about a full minute, not even rummaging in his pockets anymore. Then abruptly, he pulled the ring out, the one she'd found with that bizarre and otherworldly dress, and considered it there, between thumb and forefinger. "Do you know how long, I'd been saving this damn ring for? I mean, sure, I got a couple broads to wear it, but it always went to shit before anything went through."

Lydia just stared at him, wondering where he was going with this. This had apparently been eating him up inside for a while, maybe since he'd gotten eaten by that worm thing. She had the sense that he just wanted to get it off his chest, and she was just the best available.

Strangely though, she didn't mind. She had a feeling he wouldn't have told her this stuff if she'd asked, and here he was, pouring it all out without her saying a word.

Now he made a rude noise, flipped the ring up in the air, and caught it in the palm of his hand. "You know what? I don't want the damn thing anymore. Too many bad memories. You keep it." And he flicked the bit of shining metal towards her, already lying back down.

Making a move to catch it, she paused in bafflement as it faded from midair. Her hand still outstretched, she was about to question it, when she felt something cold hit her palm. There it was, she hadn't even had to catch it. She turned it over in her palm, like some bug she thought might bite her, then looked up at Beetlejuice with a frown. "Okay, my mom messed you over pretty good, but don't you think I'm a little young for you?"

A short, sharp laugh. "You still going on about that crap? Forget it. I wouldn't marry you if you were old enough. You're probably just as big a bitch as your mother." He quickly followed this with a heavy grunt as something hit him in the stomach, apparently not expecting her to retaliate.

He lifted the lamp, looked at her dubiously, and then gave her his most feral expression. "You really want to start something with me, kid?" He prompted softly.

"You really think I care how strong you are?" She retorted, matching his look with one as dangerous of her own. "Do I look like I care if someone can beat the crap out of me?" Her fingers swept past her lip, which had started bleeding again, and wiped the smudge away on her dirty blouse.

Beetlejuice frowned, annoyed with her, but getting the idea that bluffs wouldn't work on this one. And he wasn't the kind of guy who'd actually hurt a kid… "You _are _a bitch." He said matter-of-factly, tossing the lamp to the side, hoping it would break. It didn't.

"Yeah, okay." She seemed to have no problem with this, sitting back a little, and still considering him with a frown. "And so is she, I don't deny it for a minute. But she's my mom, so watch it, or…"

He lifted one eyebrow slowly, drawing up into a sitting position. His arms hooked carelessly around his knees. "Or what?" He prompted softly, doing his best not to smile, well aware that she was the one bluffing now.

Indeed, a moment later, she sighed, and looked annoyed. "I don't know. You're the most interesting thing around here, I don't really want to send you back." She toyed with a scab on her knee until it started bleeding again, looking anywhere but at him. "Why are you still hanging out around here, anyway? This place is boring."

She should never have admitted she didn't want to send him away, and he was pretty sure she knew it, too. "Maybe I still got the hots for your mom." He challenged flippantly, seeing if she'd rise to this. When she just smiled, he added, "Think I got a chance?"

"Not even." She denied, not even pausing to think it over. "My dad treats her like some kind of goddess come to earth, or something. I've even heard him call her that." She smirked. "'_My sexy little goddess.' _And mom just eats it up." A pause, then, "I thought you said it was just business, anyway?"

"It _was_, just business." He corrected, chuckling slowly. "But that woman has gone from dark and morbid, to dark and _damn _sexy. No way I'm just leaving her without at least catching up on old times." He bared his teeth, both with anger and amusement, and wondered what that meeting would be like.

Then, pausing as an idea came to him, he lifted his head slowly, a positively devilish smile growing across his pale features. "Lyds, babes… Think you could do a little favor for me?"

--


	3. PartnerinCrime?

Beetlejuice… Will you be mine? May I possess you, heart, body and soul, rights and legalities? No? Well, it seems that I still don't own Beetlejuice… Too bad. Probably don't own Lydia either…

--

Okay, I'm actually pretty happy with this chapter. Kind of a rarity for me. So if anyone doesn't like it... It's probably their fault, not mine. :P Ah, I'm kidding... Review if you do like it though!

--

Beetlejuice had never been a patient guy, not when he was alive, and not even after he was dead, and had no more reason to be in a hurry about anything. But there he stood, by the front door, staring at the clouds with some sort of mad fixation, wondering if the bitch was even going to go back outside that day. For this, he could be patient. He just didn't friggin want to be.

Finally drawing away from the wall, antsy to do anything to kill some time, he glanced up at the kid's window. She was watching him, as she had been for the past hour and a half, apparently in no hurry, unlike him.

He flipped her off, grinning in annoyance, and she returned the gesture absently, not even rising from her place. Either she was real curious about what was going to happen, or she didn't trust he wasn't going to try something real nasty with her mom. Either way, he kind of admired her for it.

Pacing around the house a couple time produced no real obvious way to kill time, but as he passed her bike for the third time, he paused, considering it with a critical eye. Busted just about to pieces… She should have left it where it was, instead of struggling home with it. On an impulse, he kicked the front tire, sending a spike of his juice through it.

Immediately, metal began twisting, rubber began inflating, and in less than a minute, it was laying in the grass before him, good as new. And just as ugly. He stared at it with something of a frown tickling around his lips, then gave it another kick, this one harder. The bike lifted into the air, hurtling forward, and did its level best to wrap around a nearby tree.

This of course, had the effect of making him grin again. It also had the effect of a loud cry of question coming from inside the house, so he quickly made himself even less visible, and ducked beside the back door, just before it swung open.

_Olivia_… His fingers itched to grab at her, and a positively lecherous look would have crossed his face, if anyone could see it. He waited as she crossed the backyard, staring in bafflement at the twisted metal of her daughter's bike. Five steps behind the whole time.

Then he snagged her by the waist, wrapped his opposite hand over her mouth so she couldn't scream, or use his name, and hissed in her ear, "Long time, no see, Liv! Miss me?"

The woman went absolutely rigid in his arms, the scent of fear washing over her like some tangible thing, for about thirty seconds. Then she did everything in her power to throw him off, trying to stomp on his feet, twist in his arms, bite his fingers… He laughed softly, and let her do her worst, letting her get the idea in her own time that she wasn't getting away.

Finally she stopped struggling, possibly because he was now on top of her, with her pinned to the ground. "I'm gonna think you're not glad to see me, you keep this up…" He murmured silkily his lips brushing her ear, and making her shudder. "You can't tell me you haven't thought about me, since I've been gone… 'Specially since you're still using that little nickname I gave you…"

Olivia just glared at him scathingly as he drew back, before her face went pale as his fingers teased at her neckline, her eyes growing frightened. Beetlejuice's other hand flew away from her mouth, just long enough to press his lips to hers, hard, and give her the deepest kiss of her life. Again, she struggled under him, but he just grinned to himself, well aware that he was a damn good kisser, and her protests shouldn't last too long.

Indeed, after only a moment, she stopped resisting, even if she didn't exactly kiss him back. Certain he'd made his point, he let her go, and sat up, still straddling her middle, his fingers playing her hair, a self satisfied smirk on his face. "Knew you never got over me…" He chuckled softly.

"Beetle-" She began, only to be cut off by his hand, planted back firmly over her mouth with a look of disapproval.

"Now we've been there already, babes." He cautioned her slowly, doing his best to look both dangerous, and a little insane. "Me? I just wanted to catch up. You know, see how you're doing, how time's treated you, tell you what it felt like being eaten by a GODDAMN SANDWORM!"

This last came out with a little more enthusiasm than he'd intended, so he paused, took a breath, and smiled before he continued. "And here I find you playing happy homemaker! You," And he tried to sound scolding, "Forgot about your promise."

"I didn't forget." Olivia whispered, her eyes still wild, her voice trembling a little. "I was just a kid, you couldn't expect…"

"_But_," And he stressed the word, going into a disapproving tone, "I did, babes. You promised. That's the way these things work… You promise to do something, you do it. Or doesn't your word mean a damn thing to you breathers anymore?"

A long, long silence passed, and Beetlejuice had to admit, he was getting comfortable… Or would be, if it weren't for that damn look of fear in the woman's eyes. Not that he didn't enjoy that in its own way. "So the way I see it," He prompted slowly, giving his words a chance to sink in, "You owe me, Liv. You've had all this time, building your perfect living life, with the Maitland chumps, Mr. Right, and hey… I gotta admit it, a cute kid. And what do I-?"

"Stay the hell away from her!" It was a sound remarkably resembling a snarl, and even more remarkably resembling a threat. Beetlejuice paused, and looked at her again, put off. "I swear, if you touch one hair on my daughter's head…!"

A slow smile spread across his face. For some reason, he didn't mind so much, this broad thinking he was that low. Give her a reason for a few nightmares. "Real cute kid," He purred, lidding his eyes with a decided taunt, "All pale and dark, just like you were. Wonder if she'd be willing to pay your little debt? I could get used to hanging around with someone all morbid and brooding like her…"

A strangled sound escaped Olivia's throat, and she resumed doing her best to throw him off. He just chuckled, holding her down like it was nothing. "Seriously, Liv," He went on, utterly unable to maintain a straight face, "How _are_ you intending to pay me back, you being married and all? You could always go for a roll in the sheets with me…"

Olivia, oddly, went still at this last, a look approaching calculation in her eyes. "And then you'll stay away from my daughter?" She prompted, surprising him.

The poltergeist stared at her, for an instant weighing the idea in his mind. But the bitch would probably be about as passionate as a corpse… And besides, the kid was on his side. Not many were. Even if she was just a brat. "Don't know…" He said slowly, as if he were really reflecting on it, "You're not exactly the sort to keep your promises, are you?" And here he gave her a slow grin. "Besides babes, I told you, I could get used to-"

And here the back door flew open, and Mr. Protective and Bristling stood in the doorway, taking in the sight of the ghost currently straddling his wife. Beetlejuice cursed himself, sparing one second to hope she'd never told the guy his name…

"Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice!" He roared, squashing any hopes of this, about the same time the universe seemed to implode around said ghost's head.

A massive headache shot through his skull as the pressure around him built to the breaking point in less than an instant, and it felt like some massive fist had reached into his brain, and was now doing it's best to render it to pulp. It lasted less than a breath, but hurt like hell, before the falling sensation followed this, and the familiar sense of being drawn into the vacuum left by his absence before.

Then, _whoof_! He was thrown rather carelessly, not onto a piece of furniture, but randomly across his floor. The sound of breaking glass filled his ears, as the bottle he had been previously unable to break with his toss, now shattered under his full weight hitting it, before he rolled face first into the far wall.

He lay there, groaning, for about a minute, before rolling onto his back, staring up at the ceiling, and letting loose the most colorful string of curses he could think of. Most involved Olivia. A few involved her husband. Quite a number described rather unpleasant deaths for the both of them. And all he'd gotten out of the whole thing was a damn kiss!

Testing his limbs, he sat up slowly, scowled at the sight of his blood dripping onto the floor. Still cursing the two in every way possible, he proceeded pulling the shards of glass out of his backside and arm, fingers twitching to juice them both into some newly minted version of hell. Or at least feed them to a sandworm too!

But he wasn't stuck here again. No, he had to believe that. But he was taking a hell of a lot on faith… What if the kid didn't call him back? He wondered for an instant what it had looked like to Lyds, him straddling her mom in the backyard, and stealing a kiss. Damn, why didn't he ever think of this shit until after?

Wincing as he drew an especially large shard free, he turned it over between his fingers, and let out a little hiss of disappointment. No way the kid was calling him back, was she? No, not after that…

Damn.

--

When the house began to erupt in absolute chaos, Lydia had the sudden impression that she'd rather be anywhere else until it blew over. So while everyone else was in the back, talking loudly, offering comfort, and sounding furious, she slipped down the stairs, and without a word, out the front door.

This was all Beetlejuice's fault of course, and if she had an ounce of sense, she'd never call the troublemaking poltergeist back here again. She hadn't seen a lot, since her window didn't face the scene of the crime, but from what she had snuck out the bathroom window, he'd been on top of her mom, pinning her to the ground. God only knew what he was saying, that she wasn't even trying to get away.

So then, in it all being Beetlejuice's fault, it was really all her fault too. She'd called him, after all. And there was no way she was risking them finding out about that, until they calmed down enough to maybe not think to ask.

She wasn't really up to running, but her bike had been broken earlier that day, so there weren't many options left. Not that she'd have thought she'd miss it… And despite a clean change of clothes, she looked horrible. She didn't know where she was going, maybe the Winter River Bridge. That place always helped her think, and she'd hidden out there more than once before.

Once the house was out of sight, she slowed down a little, figuring she had time before they searched the house and yard, and came to find her. She was still thinking about him. He'd asked her to call him back, and like an idiot, she'd promised she would. Now she was stuck. A promise was a promise, after all. Maybe she could call him here, then send him back, before he knew what was happening. Kind of a loophole.

Wincing as the bruise on her leg suddenly decided to make itself felt, Lydia left the road, and sat down under one of the tall trees that lined it, dropping her weight against the thick trunk. Her eyes closed a little, and she wondered briefly what the heck was wrong with her. Getting into fights. Summoning the dead. Keeping secrets from her parents. When had she turned into such a magnet for trouble?

No, she wasn't a magnet for trouble, she was causing the trouble. It left kind of a nasty taste in her mouth. The thing was, she wasn't trying to make everything hard, for herself or anyone else. It was just a, her nature not to back down from a challenge, and b, not her style to apologize for something she didn't regret.

_And do I regret what happened back there?_ Well, technically, she didn't know what had happened back there. She might give him the benefit of the doubt… But it did look pretty bad.

Lifting her head, she gazed up through the trees at the darkening sky, and made a face at no one at all. How could she be mad at him for making trouble, when it was the same thing she did all the time? They were two of a kind, she supposed… Maybe he didn't mean for it to go so far either. Not that he seemed like a 'nice guy,' or anything, but he didn't strike her as a total creep, either.

She pursed her lips, dropping her head again, and sighed. Well, there was no harm in saying it just once, was there? "Beetlejuice…" She whispered, just under her breath, half hoping that by some impossibility that didn't even make sense to her, he wouldn't hear.

It seemed though, as if the world itself grew marginally stiller around her, waiting. One more time. Just one more time. She didn't have to say it a third. There was no one there to make her. "Beetlejuice…"

Then again, there was no one there to stop her either, was there? Gripped by a sudden urge to defy common sense, to go against what logic and her own instincts told her, she almost said it a third time, then paused. What was it about him that grabbed her so hard? Because there was no denying that something did…

_I have friends. I don't need more friends. _But he wasn't really like a friend, was he? Too old to be her friend, she was sure there was some rule about that. He was really more like… A partner in crime. Someone that wouldn't get mad at her, no matter what dumb stunt she pulled. Maybe even help her pull it. Though he had been upset before… Maybe because she'd gotten hurt? She couldn't see him being upset at just being in a fight…

"What do I do?" She asked aloud, as if hoping the answer would come from someone else. He was creepy, dark and disturbing, dirty and unapologetic. And she loved all that about him. He did what he wanted, when he wanted, and didn't think twice about it. And he actually used his powers, not like her godparents… All in all, he was… cool. As much as she usually despised the word.

A small smile curled her lips, and she shrugged, looking at a spot before her, imagining him appearing there. "I am in way over my head," She informed him matter-of-factly, as if he were already there to hear her, "But what the hell?" She threw her arms out, yelling it this time, not caring who heard. "Beetlejuice!"

For about half a second, she wasn't sure he'd show up. Maybe because nothing really good ever seemed to last in her life. Then he was standing before her, looking down at her with a surprised, skeptical frown, as if certain this has to be some kind of prank. "You really fucking called me back?" He demanded, this clearly being the last thing he'd expected.

It was Lydia's turn to scowl. "So what? You don't want to be here now?" A thought occurred to her, and a pang of anger struck her deep inside. "I'm not good enough company anymore? My mom's so much better to hang around with?"

"Damn that woman to hell!" He said emphatically, still giving her a dubious stare, and not even really seeming to mean the words. "But why wouldn't you back out, when you had the chance? She sure as hell would have!"

"I'm not my mom." Lydia informed him, through gritted teeth. Only as he still didn't break his gaze, his frown deepening, did she finally begin to feel uncomfortable under it, a little less sure of herself. "A promise is a promise," She muttered, turning her own eyes away, "Whatever. Don't make such a big deal about it."

But for some reason, to him, it did seem like a big deal. He didn't say any more about it though, finally just shoving his hands in his pockets, turning his own gaze away, and grunting, "Mind if I sit?"

"Do what you want." She agreed absently. "What do I care?"

"Shouldn't tell me to do whatever the hell I want," He grunted, though that hadn't been what she'd said at all, "I'm just the kind of guy to take you up on that." He came in to sit beside her anyway, and she winced a little as his strong side brushed her damaged ribs.

"You would anyway." She noted, not giving him a chance to comment on her small reaction. "Doesn't make much of a difference what I say."

"True." His eyes seemed darker than they had before, as he stared straight ahead, as serious as she'd ever seen him. Not that she expected it to last. He turned that green gaze to her after a moment more though, and this time, he was frowning. "Who beat the shit out of you, anyways?"

Lydia shrugged, slowly. "You wouldn't know her." She really didn't want to think about that now.

"Humor me." He prompted, a tight smile on his smile. "I know a lot of people." She made a little dismissive sound, and he put a heavy hand on her shoulder, making her blink, and look up at him in surprise. "Babes," He said wearily, "Just fucking tell me, okay? Don't make me juice it out of you."

She wasn't quite sure what that meant, but it sounded like an empty threat, and worded in a way that made her smile. "Claire Brewster, and her cronies." She admitted, throwing his hand off like he was annoying her, even though he wasn't. "I don't even know their names. I don't think they have any."

Something in his expression would have suggested he was fixing the name in his mind, had she bothered looking. But for now, he said nothing of this. "Cronies, huh?" He echoed, turning the word carefully on his tongue. "Who is this bitch, that she deserves cronies? Hell, even I don't have them!"

"Would you want them?" She pointed out, already in a better mood, and fixing him with an amused little glance. He made a rude sound, and she laughed, making him jump a little. "Didn't think so."

He looked at her oddly, as if quite simply, he didn't know what to make of the little goth girl. Then he winced, reached back while she watched in confusion, and hissed as he pulled something free from his lower back. She was shocked to see the gleaming shard of green glass between his fingers as he considered the source of the trouble with a frown. "Missed one…" He muttered, annoyed.

"What happened?" She asked, worried despite herself. Even pulling herself up a bit on his arm, utterly unafraid of the proximity to the dangerous poltergeist.

"Ah, nothing. Broke a bottle." He paused as he saw how far she was leaning into his space, and a slow grin spread across his face. "You ain't even scared of me, are you, kid?" He demanded, as if this were endlessly funny. "Shit, your mom needs to teach you about being a better judge of character…"

It was Lydia's turn to make a rude noise, but she surrendered the small bit of distance, looking at him ruefully. This standoff seemed to stretch for upwards of a minute, before she shrugged again, pulled his ring out of her pocket, and turned her gaze to that.

"This ring is way too big for me," She informed him flatly, changing the subject without blinking, "If I'm going to wear it, it's going to have to be on a string, or something." A pause, then a tilt of her head. "You got anything that'll hold it on my neck, Beej?"

Beetlejuice considered her, turning over this shortening of his name, and wondering how he felt about it. Not so bad, really. Hell of a lot better than some names he'd been called. "Hold on." He grunted, reaching into his pocket. He pulled out a piece of wire, a piece of snakeskin, and a piece of string. "How about one of these?"

Picking up the string, she half expected it to break in her hand. "Anything else?" She prompted, not sure if he was joking, but amused anyway. "Something that won't break, or kill me?"

"Picky, picky." He grumbled, digging into the apparently endless pockets again. "Got a… piece of yarn," Too short, "some dried up tape," dried up tape? "And…" He paused, looking at what he held in his hand. "Well hell, I don't know what this is."

"A shoelace." She pointed out easily, snagging this one from his hand. It looked much the worse for wear, but it would do. Beetlejuice meanwhile, was looking down at his buckled boots, muttering something about why in heck he was carrying around a shoelace. Tucking the ring on it, she tied the ends, and slipped it over her head.

It definitely wasn't too small. As it was, it fell somewhere around her stomach. After a moment's thought, she tucked it into her shirt. Then, as an afterthought, she grabbed the snakeskin too, as it was about to go back where it came from. "Can I keep this too?" She prompted, giving him her most wistful smile.

Beetlejuice scowled, obviously not buying it for a second, but waved his hand acknowledgingly. "Sure, whatever. I've got more." Withy one smooth motion, and a bit of a wince, he stood, and considered the darkening sky with a frown. Slowly, a decidedly not nice smile spread across his face. "Anyone know where you are, kid?" He asked softly.

Her eyes narrowed, just marginally, her hand still tucking her new prize into her own pocket. "Are you trying to scare me again?" She asked bluntly, for one wild moment, wondering just how stupid she was being.

"You?" He chuckled under his breath, looking pleased. "Nah, no worries there, Lyds. You and me, we're buds." He ran his fingers through his tangled mane of hair, and drew a cigarette, apparently from midair. "Why don't you go on home though, before your moms is ready to send you to this side with me?" A low cackle, as he reflected on something he didn't share with her. "Need someone to call me back, after all…"

"You could just stay out of trouble." She pointed out, getting painfully to her feet. At this he just snorted, and gave her a long look, lit match still in one hand. She had the feeling something unsaid was being implied, about pots calling kettles black… "Yeah, whatever." She blew her bangs out of her face, and left him there, laughing silently to himself.

But for once, she was in a good mood. A real good mood. Because this guy, whatever problems his presence might offer, was going to make life anything but boring…

--

"I know she's with him!" Olivia had passed hysterical about ten minutes before, upon discovering Lydia wasn't in her bedroom. Now she'd just gone nuts. "You didn't hear what he said! Oh my god…" Her whole body crumpled, caught only by her husband's strong arms. "My baby, he's got my baby…"

"We don't know that, Olivia." Edmond murmured into her hair, a look approaching absolute fury etched into his own features, nonetheless. "She could have just snuck off because she was in trouble, she's done it before…"

"No!" She jerked away from him in one massive motion, tearing the shoulder of her shirt, eyes wild as they fixed on him furiously, as if he was somehow to blame. "I know she's with him! I can feel it!" Her next words, as she spun around, were directed at Adam and Barb. "You have to go after them!"

"After them, where?" Adam pointed out helplessly, not reminding her that even if they found them, the two of them together were no match for the dangerous dead man. "If we ask Juno, it could be months before we're back." A small pause. "If you're sure he's with her, really sure, there's only one thing we can do."

At this, everyone seemed to lose their ability to breathe, much less speak. It was Edmond who finally broke the silence, his gaze piercing and dangerous. "I sent him away," He said softly, something in his voice that Olivia had never heard from her husband, "I'll call him back. And if he does have Lydia…" A slow out-take of breath, "I'll kill him."

Adam looked like he wanted to argue, but Barb chose that moment to reach for his hand, and all he could do was look down at her. If he caused trouble, they'd say his name. Only it was never that simple. And by god, if he'd hurt Lydia… Adam would learn to be stronger. Somehow.

"Beetlejuice…" Edmond whispered, raw fury still crackling in his voice, "Beetlejuice… Beetle-"

Abruptly, below them, the front door slammed, cutting off Edmond in mid-word, and making his eyes dart in an almost fanatical way to the stairwell. It was hard to say which of the living made it down the stairs faster, but the two ghosts beat them, taking the short route.

"Lydia!" Barb cried, sweeping the small girl up in her arms, her eyes shut tightly in relief. "Thank god, we thought…" This was all she said though, never saying what she'd thought.

Lydia was quickly circled in by four, very angry parents. The girl looked briefly out of her depth, clearly not sure what this new punishment she was about to be inflicted was for, but then her face went stiff as stone. "What? I was just stretching my legs…" She muttered, glad she had the lie ready. "They hurt like hell… I was getting cramps from the bruises! I-"

Anything more she might have said was cut off abruptly, as Olivia fell at her daughter's feet, clutching her with both hands. She couldn't seem to decide to be angry or relieved, but she did, Adam noticed, look paler than usual. "He didn't hurt you?" She whispered, her voice dry and shaking. "You're okay?"

Lydia just stared at her mother, something unreadable passing her gaze. "Who?" She asked at last, warily. "Look, you guys were going crazy down here, and the last thing I wanted was to be yelled at again. Since my legs hurt anyway…" She shrugged, looking uncomfortable, and turning her gaze from one to the other. "What's going on?"

Edmond's breath hissed out slowly, and he seemed to compose himself, regaining strength that the rest of them hadn't even known he'd lost, fearing for his daughter. "Nothing." He said slowly, something in his tone warning that she should leave it at that. She narrowed her eyes at him, and met his gaze with one almost exactly like his own, save for the color of her eyes. He frowned, and said it again. "Nothing."

"Yeah…" She turned her gaze away from him, not in defeat, but in a sense of biding her time. "Fine. So what, am I in trouble again?"

"We told you not to leave your room, honey." Barbara pointed out softly. But for whatever reason, she didn't seem particularly inclined to be the one offering further punishment. When this was followed by silence, as no one else spoke up either, she added quietly, "Why don't you go to your room. We need to talk about this."

Lydia ran her fingers through the strands of loose black ink falling in her face, and gave the ghost woman a dubious glance. "Whatever." She grunted, turning and leaving them there, and doing everything in her power not to reveal how fast her heart was pounding. She started to say she was tired anyway, but was afraid her voice would catch, so left it at that.

Only once she was safely in her room, did she let out her tightly held sigh of relief. Now she wasn't just keeping secrets for him, she was lying for him too. And chances were, things weren't going to get easier from here.

She wondered where he was, and lay her hand lightly over the concealed ring at her middle, a small smile gracing her face. She'd gotten away with it. Barely, but she had. Talk about adrenaline…

But for now, she'd better get some sleep while she could. There was no telling what Beetlejuice had in store next… And she didn't want to miss out on a minute.

--


	4. A Deal with the Dead

Beetlejuice… Will you be mine? May I possess you, heart, body and soul, rights and legalities? No? Well, it seems that I still don't own Beetlejuice… Too bad. Probably don't own Lydia either…

--

Almost surprisingly, no further talk of punishment was forthcoming, either that night, or the next morning. So she supposed the two week grounding still stood. Though she wasn't sure herself, and suspected her parents weren't either, exactly what it was she was grounded from. That had simply never been brought up.

She was still a wreck, but she'd always been a fast healer, and what had been ugly black and blue marks the day before, were now rather a sickly shade of green. She figured walking still wouldn't be fun though, and planned to ask for a ride… Until she got downstairs, and found both her living parents already gone. "Now what?" She muttered, wondering what could have the two up and around so early.

"Lydia, hon!" Barbara grabbed her in another of her patented motherly squeezes, having appeared from pretty much nowhere. Lydia wondered if that had ever made her jump… It such as heck didn't anymore. "Your parents went out for breakfast, so it's just us this morning! I made you and Adam a huge stack of pancakes…"

Out for breakfast? She started to question it, then realized what was really going on there. They wanted to talk about Beetlejuice, somewhere that their daughter, who presumably didn't know about him, wouldn't overhear. A tiny smirk settled on her face, and she followed Barb without a word, in the mood for some of her fantastic cooking.

She thought about goading Barb, seeing how far she could press questions about something she wasn't supposed to know about enough to be questioning. It was kind of the way she got her amusement out of life, picking at things that should probably be left alone.

But for once, common sense prevailed. Common sense, and the fact that having him around for a while, would probably be a heck of a lot more fun than just a little awkward silence now. So she enjoyed the hot breakfast, and the company of her foster family. For a while, she could play the role they wanted her to play. Mostly though, she was distracted by thoughts of what a certain poltergeist might be up to…

Ghost parents were great, but they couldn't exactly offer a ride to school, so Lydia stepped out into the front yard alone, giving the world around her a long, slow examination. She was a bit puzzled as to why, just in sight around the side of the house, her broken bike now seemed permanently embedded into the side of an oak. But other than that, everything seemed… disappointingly normal.

Sighing, she started down the road to school, resigned to plodding through another mundane day at junior high. There was still a slight limp in her leg, but she pushed the pain back, and offered a dull eye to the beautiful fall day. She didn't know that he'd really be back, of course. She'd just assumed he would. But with things the way they'd turned out with her mom…

She didn't want to think that. Her whole life she'd been compared to her mother, and somehow never managed to match up to the older goth. She couldn't stand the idea that he felt that way too.

Still brooding, she just about jumped out of her skin when he grabbed her by behind, and spun her, grinning. The strangled sound that had risen in her throat became a single, angry word of accusation. "You!"

"Course me!" He cackled, enjoying the way her face went pale, then red._ "__You_, let your guard down, babes. Can't do that. Don't know what kind of perverts might be stalking these roads…"

An exasperated sound escaped her lips, but already she was smiling. She was definitely a girl who could appreciate a good scare. "What are you doing, anyway?" She muttered, giving him a good-natured shove as he released her. "Shouldn't you be off raising hell somewhere?"

"Eh." It seemed to be a sound of dismissal, as he gazed down at her accusingly. "You don't want me to walk you to school, Lyds? Just say so."

Something approaching a soft look touched her face, followed by a slow smile. "What would you want to do that for?" She joked, considering him through a raised brow. "Haven't you caused me enough trouble?"

"Nah," He waved this away, "'M just getting started, kid."

They walked side by side after this, Beetlejuice paying considerably closer attention to their surroundings than she was. Of course, her center of attention was obvious. And he was doing his best not to show how much he was eating it up. "You think it's a weird name?" She prompted suddenly, deciding to get him talking again, and not above using an insult to do it.

"Lydia?" He smirked, not quite looking at her. "Hell yeah. Why you think I don't use it?" The kid was baiting him, which was fine, but she'd have to do a hell of a lot better than that. "I mean, what was your moms thinking?"

She made an indelicate noise, and he waited in amusement for her to break the silence again. This was his game, the sooner she learned that, the better. Sure enough, less than a minute later, her eyes had drawn unerringly back to him again. "So… why are you walking?" She pressed this time, apparently finding something odd in this. "I don't think I've seen your feet on the ground once, since I've met you."

"And that's been such a long time, huh babes?" His mouth twisted, as he looked down at her. "See, it's like this. I'm not your run of the mill ghost, Lyds. People have a lot less trouble seeing someone like me, than your dead friends back at the house. And for some reason," Here he paused, a low cackle escaping him, "For some reason, seeing me just floating along as I please, can really shock the shit out of the living!"

This surprised Lydia, enough that she actually let on, stopping and staring at him. "People can see you?" She echoed, having long accustomed herself to a life where only her family kept her from thinking she was crazy from seeing ghosts herself. Then a wariness settled over her. "Wait, what do you mean, not a run of the mill ghost? How are you different?"

"Hmm… Stronger, for one thing. Hell of a lot stronger. To the point where it doesn't matter if you're the sort that would rather ignore the dark and creepy… You're not going to be _able _to fucking ignore me."

He lifted his hand, and summoned a small ball of light, the heat and brilliance of it so intense that she had to step back, and avert her eyes. It was like a small sun… And didn't seem to take more effort than blinking, for him. "Get the point, kid?" Another gesture, and the miniature star went out. "I'm not just a ghost, I'm the ghost with the _most_." There, he'd said it. And it was about damn time.

Turning his attention back to Lydia, he saw that her eyes were maybe just a little more wary, which he hadn't really intended, but also decidedly intrigued. "The ghost with the most, huh?" She echoed slowly. From her, it didn't even sound dirty. "That's gotta be fun."

"It can be." He assured her, more than a little amused by her reaction. Looked like this kid was going to be fun too. "'Cept then they come in, and put this binding on you, 'cause you're _too _damn strong… And then you find yourself jumping one or way or another, anytime someone says your damn name!"

"Bum deal." She said again, her eyes narrowing a bit. "It's too bad you don't have someone willing to send you whichever way you want, if you'll just ask… I mean, someone who knows your name already, and might be willing to risk a few scares, you know?"

By this point Beetlejuice had stopped, narrowing his eyes as well. "You saying what I think you're saying, babes?" He prompted softly. "What about all that shit you said before… About not making deals with the dead?"

"Kinda already blew that, when I promised to bring you back last time." She pointed out, suddenly aware that she'd found his vulnerability, and savoring it, quite visibly. Beetlejuice just continued to stare, skeptically. "I mean, that's what you want, right? Its not just getting on this side, you don't like being tied down at all. You wanna go where you want to, when you want to."

By this point he was openly frowning, because that was exactly what he wanted. And she just turned a faux innocent look up to him, and smiled. "Right?"

"Yeah…" He agreed slowly, not sure he liked where this was going, just the same. "So what's in it for you? 'Cause I sure as hell don't buy that you'd be doing it out of the goodness of your heart, babes… World don't work that way. And I am _not_," And he bit his teeth at this last, "A toy for you to play with until you get tired of me, and then put away. Got it?"

For some reason, his words struck a chord in her. There was just a little too much earnestness in this, as if it were something he'd been through before. This was a man who'd decided long ago that he didn't like being used… And if she really wanted to keep him around, she'd have to make it clear every step of the way that this wasn't what she had in mind. But did she?

Her face serious, she examined his angry features, his wild green eyes, and the dangerous set of his mouth. She wasn't scared of him, but she didn't doubt for a second that if she gave him cause, she'd be given good reason to be. He was not the kind of guy you messed with…

And she admired that in him. The smallest hint of a smile tracing her lips again, she stuck out her hand, in a clear invitation to shake. "You don't give me a reason to absolutely hate you, Beej, and I'll be your doorman. All right?"

Beetlejuice drew back a little, hissing, looking at her hand like it was going to bite him. But then his mouth drew into a reckless grin, and before she could change her mind, he had his hand firmly around her wrist, squeezing hard. "You just made a deal with the dead, babes." He informed her, in no uncertain terms. "Don't think it ain't binding as anything."

She was about to answer, when a spark of blue iciness traveled from his hand to hers, making the skin tingle as it traced its way across her flesh, and down somewhere into her chest. She started to yank her hand away, but he had a good grip, and wasn't about to let go, chuckling softly now. "Think I was gonna make another deal, without it being bound, kid? I don't make the same mistake twice…"

He finally released her, and she clutched her hands together, trying to shake off the lingering trace of electricity. That sense of cold was still inside her, like a piece of himself he'd given her, and for the first time since summoning him, she actually felt scared, because she didn't know what it meant. That slightly mad grin of his wasn't helping either…

Suddenly furious, she reacted without thinking, giving the dangerous ghost a solid kick in the shin. Howling in surprise, he stumbled back, looking at her a bit like she was the crazy one there. "You dumb ass!" She hissed, resorting to language she didn't normally use. "You think that's the right way to make me not hate you? Putting some kind of curse on me?"

Rubbing his leg, Beetlejuice was quickly laughing again, apparently in too good a mood to have it spoiled so easily. "Wasn't a curse… exactly." He denied smugly. "Just want to make sure you keep your side of the bargain, is all."

"I was gonna anyway." Lydia's anger was spent quickly, and she laid her hand over her chest, wondering at that sense of cool. He just stood there smirking, well aware that she wasn't mad anymore. She wasn't sure if it came from the ring she wore under her shirt… But it didn't feel like it came from there. It was strange, but… not bad. Kinda like a ghostly touch that stayed with her.

Lydia closed her eyes, and sighed. Looked like she'd be playing by his rules, after all… She'd kind of figured. But that didn't mean this wasn't still her game, did it? And thinking this, Lydia couldn't help but smile.

--

He had to admit, it surprised him a bit, how easily she was taking this. He was also glad she hadn't tested it right away, he wasn't sure exactly what would happen to her if she tried to go back on her word. _Come to think of it, maybe I shouldn't have done that…_

Beetlejuice had changed suits, Lydia reminding him of his own words, as well as her mother's, and letting him put two and two together for himself. Not that a change of clothes really disguised who he was… But for now, he wore a suit he hadn't in a while, with a long trench, and a brimmed cap. Both, actually, far worse for wear than his normal clothes.

They'd walked mostly in silence, with him making a glib comment from time to time, mostly because she always had some dry remark to answer him, and he thought it was funny. Like when he pointed out a couple squirrels getting frisky, he commented aloud on whether or not they knew they were getting it on out of season.

To which she replied, "You'll notice the one doing the chasing isn't the one that'll have to find food for the kids, right?" Which he'd then challenged her on how she knew that for sure, since he'd known some women in his time…

Basically it was harmless, asinine banter, each one trying to get a rise out of the other. It wasn't until they got into town that Beetlejuice realized the odd sight the two of them had to be, walking along together like this, chatting like school chums. He sneered at one old lady who looked particularly indignant, only to have her huff and storm off… As well as she could storm, anyway. "Look me up when you're on the other side!" He yelled after her. "You'll be a hell of a lot more fun when you're dead, trust me!"

This of course, made them squarely the center of attention for every eye on the street, and those who hadn't found the pairing odd before, certainly did now. Lydia just snickered, ducking her head so that her hair fell over her eyes. "Beej, you're an idiot…" She mused, still not annoyed with him. Well hell, could he do anything wrong in this kid's eyes?

Before he could ask her this, and he fully intended to, just to see how she'd word her smart-ass reply, an even odder pair than the two of them came running up the sidewalk… At least to his eyes. Pixie-girl and gangly-girl didn't spare him a glance, just stopping before Lydia, out of breath. Especially the short one, with the load of books.

"There you are, Lydia!" The one that was all joints and bones grinned, a smile oddly large for her thin face. "Man, you look like shit! Feeling better yet?"

Lydia smiled, what he suspected was a rare, honest smile, and looked embarrassed. "I'm fine." She murmured, falling behind her veil of hair a little more. "Parents reamed me out though… How about you two?"

An awkward silence followed this, and the two exchanged glances. "My mother said you're a bad influence," The small girl said softly, "And she doesn't want me to hang around with you anymore." A pause, then softly, "Sorry, Lydia. I told her I was gonna anyway, and she got pretty mad… So I'm grounded. Except for school, of course."

"My mom said the same thing…" The taller girl waved this away like it was nothing. "I told her it wasn't your fault, it's all that Claire Brewster!" There was that name again… "As if you could be a bad influence! You never miss school, you've never been in trouble with the cops, and you get the top marks in your grade! But, um…" A nervous little laugh. "I'm grounded too. Mostly for talking back, I think."

Beetlejuice considered the two, the one at least obviously older than Lyds. Girl made funny friends, but they seemed pretty loyal. "I'm so sorry…" Lydia was murmuring, looking bright red, an odd color on her pale skin. "I gotta stop letting her push me into saying stupid stuff. I didn't mean to get you in trouble too."

"No problem, Lydia…" The tall one began, about the time Beetlejuice got tired of being ignored.

"Hey, babes." He interrupted, giving her a miffed look. "What am I, not here?" Lydia blinked, lifting her head, and looked at him as if she'd indeed forgotten he was there. "You gonna introduce me to the peanut gallery, or what?"

"Oh…" She said it slowly, apparently turning it over in her head again that they could see him. The two were now looking at him oddly as well, maybe having figured they weren't walking together before. "Um… This is Prudence," She indicated the sprite, "And Bertha." Her hand waved to the toothpick. "And um, guys, this is…"

And here she paused, absolutely dumbfounded as how to introduce him. "Beetle- uh…" He watched her with a smirk, one eyebrow raised. "Mr. um… Beetle…" And here she stopped again, before offering in an uncertain voice, "Man?" He just about choked, looking anywhere but at the confused goth, with a grin.

"Mr…. Beetleman?" Prudence echoed, as if this were a particularly odd name. Which he supposed it was. "Um, how nice to meet you, sir…"

At being called 'sir,' Beetlejuice did choke, turning his back as he bent into his knees with soft laughter, only slightly maniacal. Bertha however, wasted no such pleasantries. "You're lying…" She sing-songed, seeming no less than delighted with the fib. "You don't want to tell us who he is, do you?"

"Um… no." Lydia agreed, a spark of humor touching her own face. "He's just a friend that mom would kill me if she knew I hung around with."

Beetlejuice sobered quickly, turning back with a raised brow at the girl calling him her friend. But after a minute, he smiled again. "Sure, babes," He agreed, with just a slight twist of mischief to the words, "Don't want them to know the truth, now do we?" He snagged her around the shoulders, and pulled her to his. "But I think we make a damn cute couple, personally!"

At this, Bertha's jaw dropped, and Prudence stared, while Beetlejuice wiped his dirty knuckles off on his even filthier coat. The first sound to break the silence after this was Lydia's snickering. She sounded like she was having trouble breathing. This was followed by a solid shove to his side, making him stumble back. Well, not really, but he did it for effect anyway.

"Get off me, you idiot…" She gasped, still trying not to literally fall over laughing. "See what I mean?" This to her living friends, who were now at least smiling, if not laughing. "Can you imagine if he pulled that in front of my mom?"

He straightened up slowly, tugging his coat into place, and trying to look offended. "'M hurt, Lyds." He muttered, utterly straight-faced. "Thought I was your type…" At this she just snorted, and he sighed, as if in defeat. "Well hell, you can't blame a guy for trying…"

"Um, actually, I think a lot of people would blame you for trying…" Prudence noted, in her smaller than life voice, trying to fight a smile of her own.

"Come on Pru!" Bertha laughed, giving her a solid whack to the back, and almost knocking her over. "He was kidding! And you can just see Lydia hanging out with someone like…" And here her eyes danced, "Mr. _Beetleman_… Can't you?" She apparently, had no problem seeing the amusement in this.

"I don't know…" Prudence was still uncertain, but trying to pretend she didn't agree was a wasted effort.

"Here kid, hold this for me…" Beetlejuice muttered, brushing by her, and dropping a large hairy spider on her head. "Otherwise it won't last 'til lunchtime. Seriously, I got like no willpower…" It was a cheap scare, but he didn't want to waste the effort of thinking up something bigger, and she was starting to annoy him.

The redhead, much to his surprise, scooped the spider off her head, and looked at it with wide, admiring eyes. "I've never seen a wolf spider this size before!" She marveled, actually gaining a little animation to her voice. "It might be a new subspecies!" And she dropped her books, and then and there, started digging through a heavy tome titled, 'Entomology Explained.'

Beetlejuice had to wonder if anything scared kids these days. "Keep it," He murmured, feeling generous, "I'll catch something else for lunch." Turning to Lydia, he added in a stage whisper, "Your friends are nuts, you know that, right?"

"And who was going to eat a spider for lunch?" She pointed out scornfully, though the glint in her eyes betrayed her.

"What's crazy about that?" He frowned, tugging his hat lower over his eyes, as if in a sulk. "Spiders are chock full of protein, and good stuff like that. Anybody in their right mind ought to be eating them, you ask me…"

"He's right, you know." Prudence piped up, still with her nose about three inches from the page she was reading. "Insects and arachnids are the highest source of protein you can find in the world… Lots of indigenous people rely on them as a staple food source."

The last thing he had expected of course, was for the kid to agree with him, and he looked at her a little oddly for it. He'd have to keep an eye on that one… "Shouldn't you still be headed for school?" He prompted, just a little wryly, as he himself couldn't give a damn either way, them being late.

A shout of true horror made him jump a little, as the little redhead grabbed up every book there like her life depended on it, shoving the spider back at him, and running as fast as she could in the opposite direction. Lydia and Bertha laughed, falling into a more casual step behind. "Miss Perfect Attendance…" The tall girl mused to herself. "If she's late, she'll never forgive us…"

"You coming, Bee- Ah, Mr. Beetleman?" Lydia prompted, glancing behind her at the bemused poltergeist, who currently seemed to be chewing something.

"Right behind you, babes." He assured her through his mouthful of spider, grinning to let her see its legs still stuck between his teeth. A look of true disgust and awe crossed her features as she stared, before Bertha, who had noticed none of this, reached back and snagged her by the arm, pulling her forward.

Falling into step behind them, Beetlejuice chuckled, wondering at himself. A couple of days before, if someone had asked him if he was going to be hanging out with some kid on a regular basis, Olivia's brat least of all, he would have asked them what they were drinking, because it was a hell of a lot stronger than what he was. And here he was, tagging along after three of them…

_Beetlejuice buddy, what the hell have you gotten yourself into this time…?_

The school wasn't far from there, as it turned out, and Beetlejuice had the unexpected reward of several older teen girls, all in skirted uniforms. Well aware he was staring, he didn't need to be reminded of it by Lydia, who elbowed him none too gently in the stomach. "You know, there are cops who keep an eye on this place…" She murmured, for him alone. "Stare all you want, but try not to be so obvious about it."

"What the hell is this place?" He muttered, opting for paradise himself, with not another guy in sight. "Some kind of convent?" Not that it mattered to him…

"Miss Shannon's is an all-girl school." Bertha piped in, giving a rather nervous glance around the schoolyard. "You better hurry up, and say goodbye Lydia, before Claire shows up…" Her own hand was tightly on her book bag, as if this were a weapon she'd resorted to before, and thought she might have to again. "After what happened last time, I mean."

"Too late…" This was said so softly, Beetlejuice wasn't certain how the girl expected her friends to hear, but ever watchful Prudence was staring off at a rather large gathering of giggling older girls, clutching her own books tightly. "They've seen us."

They had indeed. "So which one of those breathers is this Claire I've been hearing about?" Beetlejuice asked in a low voice, trying to tell them apart himself, and pretty much failing. "They all look alike to me, babes."

"Bleached blonde hair, blue eyes, and a sprayed on tan." Lydia murmured, getting a look to her face that said if he wasn't going to cause trouble for the girl, she had no problem looking for another fight herself. "IQ of mayonnaise."

Beetlejuice eyed them dubiously, as they came closer. "You just described the lot of them, kid." He muttered, resigned to waiting for the girl to make herself known.

It didn't take long. "Lydia Deetz!" The clear ringleader of the group greeted the girl, singling her out. "Are you actually being dropped off for school by the garbage man? That is so classy…" Sniggering, cruel faces hung on the blonde's every word. "Is he your dad, or are you two like, an item? Because I must say, you are dating up…"

Lydia started forward, a scathing retort clearly on her tongue, but Beetlejuice's hand on her shoulder stopped her, and made her look up at him in puzzlement, anger still flashing in her eyes. "Wait for it…" He murmured, a twisted smirk of his own promising something that would undoubtedly land him in trouble with the old bat, if she ever caught wind of it.

Before Lydia could question him, Claire suddenly yelped in surprised outrage, spinning on one of the girl's behind her. "You kicked me, you horrible bitch!" She shrieked, started towards the hapless girl, who clearly had no clue what she was talking about.

Before Claire could reach her, another of her goons to the side gave her another kick, hard, almost making her fall. Now more stunned than outraged, Claire turned on her too, her lips moving, but no words coming out.

Again, from behind, one of the girls kicked her, this time squarely on the ass, and sent her toppling forward. At this, even some of her own cronies giggled at her. How easy it was to turn such status hungry cliques on themselves, he mused. Hadn't changed in the last hundred years, or the years before that. Probably never would.

Claire pushed herself up on her hands, sputtering indignantly, her voice raising to a truly horrific shrill now. "How dare you!" It was almost more of a wail, than an accusation, as if she were already fighting back tears. "You're all nothing compared to me! You hear me? Nothing! Without me, no one would even look at you stupid bimbos twice!"

This was of course, exactly the wrong thing to say, especially since not a girl there had failed to notice the fall of her defenses, and her momentary show of weakness. They gathered around her like any pack whose leader has fallen, and with a decidedly malicious deliberation this time, began kicking her again as she lay there, one after another.

"Beej!" Lydia hissed, her anger quickly turning to pity. "Stop it! That's enough!"

Beetlejuice just chuckled. "I stopped a while ago, babes." His job done, he turned, and waved carelessly over his shoulder, certain this dull town had to have something left to offer it. "Enjoy school, Lyds… I know you will." And he strode away, cackling like a madman.

That, all in all, had turned out pretty damn well… Teach her, messing with _his _Lyds…

_--_


	5. A Pleasant Outing

Beetlejuice… Will you be mine? May I possess you, heart, body and soul, rights and legalities? No? Well, it seems that I still don't own Beetlejuice… Too bad. Probably don't own Lydia either…

--

Whew. Kinda happy with this. Pretty happy. Wasn't at first, but a little rest, and a few tweaks, and... well, pretty happy. Needed that rest to figure out how the heck I was going to write this chapter so that I'd be able to pull the next one off... But I think I've got it.

Probably should write with some plan of what's going to happen more than one chapter ahead... Ah well. Then it wouldn't be as much fun for me... :)

--

She was deep in her studies later that night, not having seen the troublemaking poltergeist since school started, and more than ready for a break. Sighing, she flipped her book closed, arched her back with a wince, and flopped back on her bed with a loud '_whumph_!'

"What the heck, am I supposed to spend all my time waiting for him?" She muttered, raising her hand to block the glare of the low light, which was currently shining right in her eyes. "He's gotta know I got nothing better to do…" He did know she was grounded, right? Maybe she hadn't told him. But didn't it kind of go without saying?

Lydia got to her feet slowly, a sort of jerky motion, and winced, stretching her back again. What she needed was a desk… Bending over her textbooks on the antique canopy bed was going to make her old before her time. She crossed to the mirror atop her dresser, and frowned at her reflection. She was more of a mess than usual. Maybe she should let Barb do something with her hair… Except she hated people touching her hair. But at least it would kill a little time.

On impulse, she tapped the mirror with her knuckle, as if she thought someone might hear her. "You know you can't count on that ghost worth crap, right?" She asked of her reflection, her lips curved into a wry smile. "Just 'cause you're bound, doesn't mean he is…" Maybe she should have been more careful, outlining the terms of that little deal.

There was the sudden sense of him arriving then, and as usual, he appeared right atop her dresser. Which left them pretty much face to face. Her hand reaching directly through his middle. "Shit." She swore softly, unsure what to do now.

Beetlejuice grinned slowly, not at all put off by their apparently becoming fused. "You wanted to share my lunch, babes, shoulda said something before I ate it. Not gonna find anything appetizing in there now…"

"Um…" She continued to stare at where her hand went straight through him, and only a moment later thought to tug it free, only to find it stuck fast. "Um…"

Cackling, Beetlejuice disappeared again, and reappeared less than an instant later, behind her. She spun as quickly as she could, getting a solid thump on her hip from the dresser, and found that it was him for once, leaning far into her personal space. Leaning almost nose to nose with her, in fact. "You wanna have some fun, kid?" He growled, eyes lit up like the devil's.

Lydia regarded him uncertainly, because he made it sound downright nasty the way he said it, but she suspected that he did that on purpose. Any fear she'd ever had of him had pretty much faded by this point, and she was _almost _sure that he was just trying to get a rise out of her. But she couldn't keep at least a hint of wariness from her tone as she asked, "What kind of fun?"

"Heh heh, you make me sound like such a bad guy, asking like that…" His arms caught her around the waist, and spun her around, and away from him. "You show me this side of the looking glass, babes, I figure the least I can do is show you the other! How'd you like to visit the Neitherworld for a while? Got a couple things I need to pick up from my place anyway…"

When Lydia was able to regain her balance, she blinked, still briefly dizzy, before refocusing her eyes on him. "The Neitherworld? Like, the land of the dead, or something?"

"More or less." He agreed amicably. "Now you better bundle up kid, 'cause if you haven't noticed, there's a bit of a chill being around one ghost, and well…" The curl to his lips explained the rest without words. "Not that it'll hurt you, like cold here, but hell! Wanna be a good host, and all that…"

Lydia's own mouth tried not to smile, at the thought of what she might see 'on the other side of the looking glass,' as he put it. Surely something truly disturbing… But, she was alive. "There has to be some kind of rule against this." She murmured, still not trying to conceal her delight. "I mean, something about only the dead being allowed in a world of ghosts, right?"

"Yeah." He drawled lazily, leaning against her wall, his feet crossed at the ankle, and still several inches above the floor. "But ever since our little deal Lyds, you kinda got something a little dead in you now too." His eyes glinted in amusement as her hand immediately went to her chest, where she could still feel that small presence of cold. "So I figure… Why waste it? Come on babes, you know you love playing with the dead…"

A light laugh fell from Lydia, almost without warning, but for once it didn't seem to catch him off guard. It seemed they were starting to get used to each other's odd little ways… "Right!" She agreed with excitement, running to her wardrobe, and pulling out a floor-length black dress coat. Without hesitation, she swung it over her shoulders, shoved her arms through, and ran back to where he was waiting. "Ready!"

Beetlejuice eyed what she was wearing, pumpkin and bat flannel pants, and an oversized off-white sweatshirt, and grunted. "You going in your pajamas, babes?" He asked with a little sneer, only to have her match it with a daring smirk.

"If me in my pajamas is the weirdest thing we're going to see tonight, you're seriously wasting my time, Beej." She informed him matter-of-factly, latching onto his arm as if there was nothing weird about it. "So okay, I know how to send you over there… How do I come with you?"

"Pretty much like that." He mused, looking down at her with a wry expression. "You sure you're ready for this, kid? It's gonna blow your mind…" Her eyes met his challengingly, as if to say anything he could dish out, she could take. He cackled softly, wrapping one arm around her, to make sure she wouldn't get lost in transit. "Don't say I didn't warn you, kid…"

He was waiting for her to say his name, but for the moment she was breathless, surprised by how strong his arm felt around her back. She knew he had power, but hadn't actually noticed he was strong too. Any fear she had, regardless of what he said, fled her mind. She was safe. She was certain of it.

Lydia murmured his name, almost in a voice too low to hear, like some kind of secret incantation. If he expected her to turn her face in to be protected, he was surprised, because she kept facing out as it left her lips for the last time, and they were sucked into the blackness together.

Her eyes spun to take it all in at once, not that there was much to take in. Or rather, there was, but it was all shadows, and fragments of light, twisting off into what looked like forever. She swore she tasted ice crystals on her tongue, like catching snowflakes in her mouth, and a caress of warmth washed over her as they passed through a spiraling vortex of sparks, which proceeded to cling to her like drop of glowing rain.

They were falling… No, flying, and it was better than anything she'd ever dreamed it would be. Beej's arm around her, keeping her from being pulled off into nothingness, was all she needed to know there was no danger. She wondered idly just when she'd started to trust him so much, and wondered if it would last.

And then they ended up abruptly in a dark room, all the forever she'd seen moments before simply vanished, as they both landed lightly on a rather grimy floor. Beetlejuice let out a slow breath, which she hadn't noticed he'd been holding. It was a lot more pleasant trip when he went willingly, and could control it, but he'd never tried doing it with a breather before…

He glanced down at the kid to reassure himself that she was safe, to see her eyes still positively glowing from the strangeity of the journey here. She wasn't eager to let him go just yet though, so he gave her a little shove, amused by the fact that she'd just automatically trust him to keep her safe. Amused, and a little troubled. He was not the kind of guy a kid should be relying on… No way in hell.

Regardless, he grinned at her as she caught her balance, and finally turned to take in their surroundings. A somewhat disgusted, and amused expression crossed her face, as she took in the various degrees of filth and decay. "This has to be where you live." She muttered under her breath, walking curiously to a couch that seemed to be moving. Moving, because it was covered in roaches, as it turned out. She made a face, taking a step back against her will, but said nothing more.

"Don't live anywhere, babes." He pointed out glibly, straightening his suit. "Dead guy, remember? So okay, you wait here a sec, gotta get something from upstairs." Humming under his breath, he left her without another word, and floated straight up through the ceiling. It was probably just as well he could fly, because there seemed little chance of the decayed and broken staircase holding anything larger than a termite without crumbling to dust.

Ever one to poke at something that should be left alone, Lydia crouched down by the bottom of said staircase, and gave it an exploratory prod with her finger. It went right through the crumbling wood, with a tiny crunch sound, and when she withdrew it, there was some sort of sticky webbing clinging to her skin. Lydia just smiled. "Deadly…" She whispered.

"You just can't keep your nose out of trouble, can you, Lyds?" She turned to find Beetlejuice already behind her again, looking triumphant in having caught her doing something she shouldn't. It was so utterly incongruous, being scolded by him, that it made her laugh again.

He made a face. "Yeah, yeah…" And flipped something in the air, catching it in the same hand. "Come on, babes. I promised you freaky, and the ghost with the most does not disappoint!" He nabbed her with his free hand, dragging her towards a door that she wasn't certain existed. "How 'bout some eye scream… You kids love that stuff, right?"

"Ice cream?" She repeated skeptically, not sure she'd heard him right. "Dead people eat ice cream?" She winced as it seemed they were about to walk straight into the wall, but didn't pull back, in case he was trying to scare her again.

At the last minute, was had seemed to be a wall in fact swung open… Just about the whole damn thing. If it was a door, it was the biggest one she'd ever seen. "Ice cream?" Beetlejuice was chuckling, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the gloom outside. "Sure, whatever you say, babes…"

As her eyes did adjust, her jaw dropped, and said eyes widened considerably. It was like something out of a surrealistic painting, leaning so far towards gothic that it had fallen on its ass, and kept right on going. Buildings were spires that reached for the heavens, some held up by supports that looked no sturdier than toothpicks, tilting at every angle, and built off kilter with the story before.

Towers, turrets, and other such architectural oddities, reached towards a violently purple sky, streaked with lashings of red, like open wounds, and clouds that conformed to geometric shapes not found in the living world heavens. The moons had already risen… All three of them. Two of them crescents that actually looked like the rest was simply missing, one with jagged tooth marks where a bite had simply been taken, and one hanging so full and heavy that it kind of felt like it was about to fall on their heads.

"Deadly-vu…" The words were a breath as they rushed past her lips, and only then were her eyes drawn to the assorted variety of dead that walked the streets with them. Lingering signs of their deaths marred just about every creature there, some so hideously twisted that they didn't even register to her mind as human. Others looked like every variety of monster she'd ever seen on late-night horror marathons, and still others looked almost shockingly normal, as if they might not even be aware they were dead.

Up and down the street, antique cars and decrepit carriages were drawn, some by creatures just as odd as those who drove them. Little flying things flitted through the eerie glow of the street lamps, and she might have taken them for bats, but when one land not three feet from her, and considered her with its glowing eyes, she wasn't certain if she was looking at a gargoyle, or a demon. One thing it wasn't, was a bat.

Beetlejuice followed he eye. "Imps." He dismissed the thing indifferently, pulling her onward again. "Nothing to worry about, long as they don't bite you…" This was followed by a low cackle though, so she couldn't really be certain how serious he was. The little winged beast followed her with its eyes, a loathing shade of red…

He apparently, was one of those without a car, because they walked from there. Maybe he was just trying to give her a real good view of the sights… She didn't know, but he definitely did that. She had to look like a real tourist, gawking and gaping at every utterly bizarre thing filling the world of the dearly departed, but he didn't seem to care, so neither did she. In fact, he was totally eating this up.

And she was the subject of much attention as well, despite what she'd said before about her pajamas. Then again, maybe it was because she was so utterly _normal_… Who knew? But she couldn't exchange a word with any of them, because her guide apparently had somewhere to be, and she was drawn along in his waking like some sort of comet tail…

It was just as she spotted the brilliantly lit sign that said in fact, 'eye scream,' and not ice cream, it took her a minute to put the two together, that Beetlejuice stopped suddenly, a look growing across his face, which even without knowing him well, she suspected meant trouble. Later perhaps, she'd learn to object right away, seeing that particular look on his features… Though considering her own personality, probably not.

"Hey babes, wanna hear some Neitherworld music?" He prompted, something decidedly mischievous in his tone. Before she could answer, and the answer would have been yes, of course, she was drawn down another street, away from the eye scream shop, and towards what looked, to her eye, to be some sort of very well done haunted house ride, wailing with eerie strains that gave her goosebumps to hear.

The closer she came in fact, the more certain she was that Neitherworld music had to be absolutely the best thing in existence. Aside from the utterly intoxicating thumping beat, the winding sound of dying strings, and an oddly techno hint to what had to be a keyboard… There was someone singing, and she was quite certain that no living voice could have matched their other-worldly tones.

But it concerned her a little, the sort of place he seemed to be bringing her to. It had the decided look of a nightclub, and a seedy one too, if she was any judge. There was no way she wasn't going to be carded, going into a place like this… But Beetlejuice dragged her right through the mill of people surrounding it, past the impossibly huge bouncer, with bolts the size of her fists in his neck, and through the door, without the slightest protest.

And then she was inside, and from her first glimpse, Lydia was hooked. It looked like hell frozen over, or at least this was the closest she could estimate it to, with the gothic structures, and unearthly decorating. Faces loomed at her from the nearby walls, which were actually further away than they seemed, and moved with her, watching her, struggling against what she could only see as their prison.

Shackles lined the tall support posts, made of enormous bone if she wasn't mistaken, and what seemed to be the wait staff stood there, fastened in place, serving out platters of food and drink, and occasionally lurching at their own bindings. There was fire everywhere, and gleaming eyes from every corner… And it was cold. So cold she could see her breath. And she wished more than anything, that she had brought her camera.

Beetlejuice barely gave her time to take in the sights, before he drew her directly through the seething mass of unlife, stopping only when they reached a semi-occupied table. With a kick to the guy who, miraculously, seeming to be sleeping amidst noise that by all rights should have woken the dead, Beetlejuice shoved him out of his chair, and then, as if there was nothing odd in this, offered it to Lydia.

"Take a load off, babes. Someone like you is liable to get stepped on, place like this." But he was grinning, and his eyes were lit up like a fiend's. He knew damn well this was the coolest thing she'd ever seen… Other than him.

"This place is deadly…" She whispered, taking her seat, and trying not to step on the guy currently still dozing not two feet to her right. At this, Beetlejuice just cackled, raising his eyebrows, as if to say, 'well what did you expect?'

"Now, don't get me wrong babes, I'm not saying this place has got nothing to offer it," He paused as he reached up, and snagged something off a passing someone's plate, apparently without them noticing, "But hell, the real world's got breathers…" His face cracked into a jagged smile, before he popped whatever it was into his mouth, and said through it matter-of-factly, "And breathers are _fun_!"

Lydia turned her gaze to him, smiling her first real smile of the evening. "Am I fun, Beej?" She teased him, pretty sure by now that the answer was yes.

"Babes," He waved this away as inconsequential, "You're in a whole 'nother world of fun!" From someone else passing, he nabbed what looked like a menu. "Check this out, kid, and tell me I don't know you!"

She took the menu as he handed it to her, and opened it without a second thought… Only to let out a little shriek as a twisted face popped out at her, inches from her own, and started recommending such specials as sautéed grasshoppers, in a butter cream sauce, or deep fried road kill, with a side of hashed brains.

Her shriek was followed immediately by a crazed little laugh, the first he'd heard from her, at which the distorted being seemed to take offense, and eye her dubiously. Before he could question it, Beetlejuice had nabbed the menu back from her, and tossed it over his shoulder. This was followed by several muffled cries of pain and indignation as said menu was stomped on many times by dancers, before another passing somebody, there seemed to be several of these, picked it up and carried it away.

Before he could point out any other little interesting tidbits that might evoke a similar reaction, Lydia was suddenly aware of a group of rather nasty-looking customers that had appeared just behind her friend. Nasty looking, not in the sense that they seemed even more far gone than others there, but because she was gripped with the sudden, unavoidable sense that they were just not nice people to deal with.

Beetlejuice followed her line of vision, and she swore, grew slightly pale. Despite this, a smile cracked his face as he greeted the first of these, rather nonchalantly. "Jimmy Bone-Breaker! You know, I was just looking for you the other day…"

"Stuff it, Beetle-breath." The man, who seemed to be made of hardened yellow tar, growled through mucus laden lip flaps. "You know why I'm here… It's time to talk about that little business proposition you made to the boss a while back. Seems he's not happy with it."

"Always got time for old friends…" Beetlejuice muttered, as he was forcibly lifted by the shoulder, and shoved to the fore of the group.

Lydia watched with wide eyes, tense, wondering if she should do something. Of course, common sense said no, but… One of the guys eyed her, almost literally, with several large bloodshot orbs. "She with you, Beetle?" He rasped, from a mouth oddly nowhere in appearance.

"The kid?" Beetlejuice snorted, rolling his eyes in amusement. "Like I'd be wasting my time with some broad too young to have some fun with… Nah, just the only table available." The man, creature, whatever it was, continued eyeing her, as Lydia slowly processed the fact that the dangerous poltergeist seemed to be trying to protect her.

But who would protect her if she got stuck here? As they led him away, she watched helplessly, for once in her life too scared to act, only to have Beetlejuice stumble, or pretend to, glancing back over his shoulder with a wink in her direction. _Be back in a sec_… He mouthed at her, and then looked as innocent as he was able, as the monsters glowered at him suspiciously.

Slowly Lydia forced herself to relax, deciding that if anyone could get himself out of whatever situation he was in, it was Beetlejuice. Fact was, he'd probably done so many times before, if he was still dead and kicking… She lidded her eyes, staring at the tabletop, and wondered if she was just supposed to wait for him to return, or if she should still try to enjoy her odd little field trip.

Only a handful of moments had passed this way however, when she realized that she was somehow no longer alone. She felt it kind of the way she felt Beetlejuice, when he was invisible, though with all the other ghostly presences around her, she couldn't have said for sure how exactly she'd singled out this one.

Looking up, she saw a young man, to all appearances anyway, only a couple of years older than herself. He had somewhat stringy black hair, and rather drawn features… Almost exaggerated, she might say, very thin. His skin had the faintest green tint to it, while his eyes were somber pools of black, which watched her now with unveiled curiosity. For the most part, he was more human than many in the club… But also to her eye, unmistakably dead.

"Pardon me, if I may interrupt your brooding?" He murmured, his voice like wet velvet, but oddly soothing. The way he worded the question was, she thought, a bit odd, but she spared him a small smile anyway, because that was exactly what she'd been doing. "If you haven't any better offers at the moment… Would you join me for a dance?"

A dance? A slow blush crept up her cheeks, surprised. No one had ever asked her to dance before… Well, not a _boy_. Which she supposed, technically he was. Or at least he seemed to be. "I don't know how to dance…" She mumbled under her breath, averting her eyes in nothing like the sort of person she usually was.

"Oh… Well, I'm sorry to have troubled you then." The young man said quietly, turning away with what seemed to be a noticeable dejection. "I should have known that such a creature would never dance with someone like me…"

"No, wait!" She grabbed his hand, making him jump, and look down at where she touched him, with single-minded fixation. "I actually mean that I don't know how to dance… But I can try. I might step on your toes though, I have to warn you."

"I don't mind." Still that ever softly spoken voice, as he continued to consider their hands together. Only slowly did his close about her own. "You're warm." He said quietly, even as she got to her feet.

Lydia hesitated, remembering suddenly that the living probably weren't supposed to be there, and so reasonably, everyone else around her was cold. Certainly, his hand under hers had a distinct, if pleasant chill to it. "Is that bad?" She asked nervously, still doing her best to smile.

"No, no… Not at all." He seemed rather deep in thought however, as he led her out to the dance floor. She wondered absently what Beej would think of this… His hand slid around her waist, holding her almost gingerly, as if afraid she would break, and lifted their joined hands in a sort of leading way.

She was pretty sure that this wasn't the way anyone else there was dancing, but in the midst of twisting bodies and swaying frames, the young man who'd asked her to dance, began to waltz with her. At least she thought it was the waltz. His energy swept through her like a tangible thing as they danced, and his eyes never strayed from hers, a small smile even beginning to play across his somber face.

"What's your name?" She asked him, leaning close in order to be heard over the music. Though this was the only reason, the boy looked oddly disconcerted, and seemed to do his level best to blush, as if not used to having someone so close to him.

"Vincent, miss." The music began to change now, and she felt even more awkward, slow dancing to what was obviously supposed to be a wild, grinding beat. He however, seemed to find nothing the least out of the ordinary about it. "And yourself, if I may be so bold…?"

She opened her mouth to tell him, when suddenly there was a loud explosion, it could really be called nothing else, from the back of the club. Instants later, Beej was grabbing her by the arm, and dragging her away from the guy, not even giving him a second glance. "Time to go, Lyds…" He informed her hastily, as he dragged her through the crowd.

The young man followed as quickly as he was able, yelling it again. "Your name, miss! Please, tell me your name!"

"Lydia!" She yelled back, stumbling over what seemed to be the same sleeping guy as before, still unwoken. His features seemed desperate, and made her want to smile. It was the first time a boy had ever been interested in her, granted a dead boy, but a boy nonetheless. Even if she was pretty sure she'd never see him again.

"Miss Lydia…" He echoed softly, almost unheard in the din. "Miss Lydia… what?"

"Deetz!" She gave up trying to watch him now, paying more attention so that she would stop slamming into various people, as Beetlejuice dragged her along without any apparent regard for who was in their way. "Beej," She gasped to him, doing her best not to let him pull her arm off, "Is everything okay?"

"Fine, babes!" He assured her wryly, "That's why we're running! Now shut up and move!"

They burst into what should have been the warmer air of without, only of course, for reasons she didn't understand, it wasn't. By this point she was terribly cold, though she hadn't even noticed as it'd snuck up on her, and had Beetlejuice looked, he would have seen that her lips were a very light shade of purple. As it was, she was shaking, and her coat didn't seem to do a damn thing to keep this particular chill out…

Beetlejuice didn't stop running until they were several blocks away, Lydia stumbling along behind him like some child's toy horse. Sirens blared from the direction they'd come, and what sounded suspiciously like gunshots as well. She wondered in some distant part of her mind that wasn't about to lose its hold on reality, what bullets could do to the already dead. Hurt like hell, she was sure.

Only when he slowed, did Beetlejuice cast his first real glance at her, a pleasant grin fixed on his face, as if this were the sort of thing he did all the time. "Promised you excitement, didn't I babes?" He cackled softly, to all appearances thoroughly enjoying their close call.

Come to think of it though, he hadn't promised her excitement, or even something freaky, no matter what he'd said before. In fact, he hadn't even promised to get her back alive… She did her best to give him a dark scowl, but Beetlejuice was already looking at her with a frown, and didn't seem to notice. "Hell babes," He noted, this only now seeming to come to attention, "You half frozen, or something? You're turning blue! Not that it's not an attractive shade…" He added hastily.

Lydia's breath hissed out in a puff of mist, though not as large as it had been only a few hours before. "Beetlejuice, this coat isn't doing shit." She informed him matter-of-factly, making the poltergeist's frown deeper. "Unless you want to give me yours too, I think we better get back… Before I really am dead."

"Told you, Lyds. Cold can't hurt you here, like the real world. It's just cold." But he appeared thoughtful though, and a moment later, looked around, taking in their immediate surroundings. Almost immediately, his face brightened, and a smirk settled on his lips. "Got just the thing, babes…" He murmured under his breath, ducking through a nearby door, and leaving her once again, alone.

She was wondering at just what point coming to the Neitherworld with an obviously crazy dead man had seemed like a good idea, when he reappeared a moment later, and threw something heavy and red over her shoulders. Surprised, she didn't resist, and found to her relief that whatever it was, it was _warm._

"Come on then," He said through his smile, quickening his stride, "Let's get going before the nice store people notice I nicked that…"

Lydia looked up at him in surprise, though she supposed that by this point, nothing Beetlejuice did should surprise her. "You stole this?" She demanded accusingly, reflecting silently in the same breath that she still wasn't about to give it back.

"Say it a little louder babes, don't think the cops heard you…" He didn't seem particularly alarmed though. "What, you'd rather be cold? Typical. A guy tries to do a chick a favor, and all she does is pick at him for it…"

They walked in silence after this, as she did her best to struggle into the thick red poncho, which was admittedly several sizes too big. Not that she was complaining. She was actually rather fascinated by the design, which made her feel like nothing so much as being caught in some giant spider web…

Beetlejuice interrupted her thoughts, muttering under his breath, "Guess if you really want to go back…"

"No, not yet." She denied hurriedly, making him grin again. Sure, there'd be hell to pay if she got caught, but tomorrow was a Saturday, so maybe no one would care if she slept in a few extra hours. "What about that eye scream shop?"

Now he made a face, trying to conceal his amusement. "Thought you were cold…" He grunted, turning her anyway, intending to take the long way to reach the place still dangerously close to where they were running from. Not that anyone would think to look for him there…

Suddenly a ripple of warning shot down his back, and without explanation, he grabbed for the kid, pulling her hard against him. Lydia looked up at him in alarm, not fear, but the sense that something might be about to offer danger, and grasped to him willingly herself to keep her safe.

The Neitherworld faded around them in the next instant, as he was drawn forcibly forward again, though he did his best to control the fall this time. He didn't fight it, afraid what would happen to Lyds if they got separated somewhere, nowhere. But still they landed heavily, him turning at the last minute to force himself to bear her weight, rather than the other way around.

He found himself sitting in a large dusty chair, the girl clutched in his lap, in a room that was just all too familiar to his frustrated mind. As Lydia looked up slowly, registering the changes that had taken place, he was already looking past her, to the older woman with absolute fury flashing in her eyes, and smoke billowing from seemingly everywhere around her.

"Juno…" Beetlejuice muttered aloud. "Aw, fuck."

--


	6. Wasted Breath

Beetlejuice… Will you be mine? May I possess you, heart, body and soul, rights and legalities? No? Well, it seems that I still don't own Beetlejuice… Too bad. Probably don't own Lydia either…

--

My brain is just about fried from staring at this machine. Make my day, and tell me it was worth it... And yes, Lydia is becoming 'worse' with Beetlejuice as an influence... :) He pretty much gives her his permission to do her damnedest, and apparently, that's all she's been waiting for.

--

When Beetlejuice said the newcomer's name, Lydia felt a chill through her body that had nothing to do with any cold she'd felt before this. She knew who Juno was. Adam and Barb had mentioned her before. And if she was the one who'd called them here… Beetlejuice was right. They were fucked.

The woman just stared at them though, for upwards of a minute, cigarette clasped between her fingers, eyes like stone. "You've really fucking done it this time, haven't you, Beetle?" She demanded at last, sounding nothing so much as weary. "No matter how many times I try to give you a second chance… What the hell were you thinking, bringing a breather over to this side?"

At this she finally paused, and seemed to take in Lydia herself for the first time. Her eyes narrowed noticeably. "A kid?" She muttered, apparently finding this particularly strange, before her voice rose in a boom that rattled the shelves on the walls. "You kidnapped a goddamn kid!"

"Didn't kidnap her…" Beetlejuice muttered, looking defensive. About at this point, Lydia realized she was still clasped firmly in his lap, and did just about everything physically possible to remove herself, blushing furiously. He let her go without protest, lips set into something like a pout. "Tell her, Lyds…"

Lydia felt a complete lack of ability to speak, her heart somewhere so high in her throat that it hurt, but she heard the words coming out of her mouth anyway. "He didn't kidnap me," She informed the older woman, with just a trace of hostility, "He invited me! We were just…" And of course, here she faltered. Checking out a seedy nightclub? Consorting with criminals? Shoplifting? None of those sounded like very good answers.

"Look, you can tell me the truth, kid." Juno soothed, or tried to sound soothing anyway, her voice all gravel as she leaned forward in a way that was supposed to encourage her to confide. "He can't do a damn thing to you in here… You say the word in fact, he'll be going away for a long, long time."

"No!" It was near a shout, and certainly tinged on panic. It made Juno sit back a little, looking at her dubiously. "He didn't do anything wrong! I wanted to go! We were going to go back soon, I just wanted to see a couple more things…" Lydia broke off, biting her lip, and looked back and forth between the two ghosts helplessly. "He was just, being nice."

That of course, was exactly the wrong thing to say, as Lydia would have known as soon as she said it, even without Juno's harsh laughter. "Nice?_Nice_? Kid, Beetle doesn't do anything nice! He doesn't do anything for anybody, unless he gets something out of it! And the price is always way more than whatever little favor he's offered is worth, trust me."

Lydia didn't have an answer to this, so she just glared at her, frustrated and helpless, and liking neither of these feelings. "He's nice to me." She said at last, her voice barely a whisper. "Maybe if you gave him a chance…"

"I've given him," The woman's eyes grew cold, flashing warningly, "Nothing _but_ chances! Now be quiet while I look at your paperwork, or I'll shut you up myself!"

As she would have protested again, she found Beetlejuice's hand clamped firmly over her mouth, as his voice hissed in her ear, "She ain't bluffing, kid. Besides, you talk about me being nice and all, you're going to ruin my reputation… Just be quiet, and let the grown-ups talk a while, okay?"

It was of course the most belittling thing he could have said to her, so she made no effort to pull away, and certainly said no more, but did stomp on his foot… hard. Cursing loudly, Beetlejuice let her go, and glared at her irritably. Juno looked up, back and forth between the two, the poltergeist rubbing his sore foot… And looked mildly amused.

"Apparently the girl can keep you in your place a lot better than I can, Beetle." She noted, more to herself than him, as she opened the first of a very large stack of folders before her. No sooner had her gaze landed on the first page though, before perhaps unsurprisingly, she exploded again. "Olivia's _daughter_?" Lydia swore she could hear the glass in the door panel screeching under the strain. "Oh hell no, now you've gone too far…!"

She rose to her feet, looking in that moment as if her considerably smaller and more frail looking frame was about to pounce on Beetlejuice right there, and proceed to beat the stuffing out of him. "Olivia's _daughter_? You expect me to believe this is just a coincidence?" She slammed the folder shut, not turning another page. "You… _You_…!"

Lydia watched in something like awe as the woman somehow looked bigger, and more terrifying, than Beetlejuice at his worst. Her tongue flicked across her lips as she stared at the odd pair, and then slowly, deliberately, she whispered, "Bringing a living girl into the world of the dead… Beetle, you'll be lucky if you just get exorcised once. Most likely, they'll bring you back, and do it a few more times. And I'll fucking help them!"

There was no choice, she had to cover her ears at this last, for fear of going deaf if she didn't. Therefore, she almost missed what Beetlejuice said in the silence following. "Never said she was living." He noted, matter-of-factly. "You did. The way I figure it, she's got every right to be here, same as the rest of us."

Something indeterminate flicked across Juno's eyes, and her next words were said very softly. "I hope to god you don't mean what I think you do…" She whispered, "Or there won't be a damn thing I can do to get you out of this one."

"You even checked to see if she has a pulse?" Beetlejuice grinned, looking fiendish. "Or you just like accusing me of things you can't back up?"

A long exchange of silence followed this, as Lydia wondered what the heck Beetlejuice was getting at. Of course she had a pulse. At the moment, in the quiet, it was all she could hear. But Juno turned, looked at her, and in a voice like steel, whispered, "Come here, girl. Now."

Lydia obeyed without question, though the thought of getting any nearer to the crazed ghost woman was pretty much the last thing that she wanted. As Juno grabbed for her wrist in her cold hand, Lydia wondered briefly if the other was bluffing. Could Beetlejuice get exorcised for this? And if so, then why the hell had he done it? The thought of him just, not existing anymore, scared her.

Juno's eyes flicked up, as she apparently found Lydia's pulse with ease, but Beetlejuice interrupted before she could say a word, smiling confidently. "See? Haven't hurt a hair on the kid's head. She's fine."

"So you expect everything to be all right now, is that it?" Juno whispered, the slow rage already starting to build in her voice again. "What is it you're trying to get at, Beetle? Because if you do have a legitimate claim, I suggest you tell me now, before there's nothing I can do for you."

"That girl," And Beetlejuice now pointed carelessly to Lydia with one hand, narrowing his eyes for effect, "Now has a piece of my juice inside her." You could have heard a thought being born, in the silence that followed. "See, we made a little deal, and well, I didn't want her backing out, so…"

"You geised her?" It was said very, very softly, and Lydia swore, the woman looked shaken. "Beetle, tell me you didn't!"

"Nasty way to put it…" He frowned, shifting uncomfortably, and looking anywhere but at the girl in question. "But yeah, if you want to split hairs, I did. I bound the kid to her own word, to let me in and out whenever I damn please… And it's a legal binding, and you can't do a damn thing about it!"

This last was said with just a trace of hardness, as he now met her eyes unflinchingly. "And what's more, with that power inside her, there ain't a damn reason in hell she can't come over to this side for a visit, if she gets it in her head she wants to!" At this last, a slow smile split his face. "And if you interfere, so she can't carry out her end of the deal…"

And this was where he left it, apparently with enough said. Lydia felt scared, certain somehow he wasn't bluffing, and wondering just what the caseworker had meant, by 'geised.' What would happen if she went back on her word? She'd been trusting this guy with her life all night, and here he'd been apparently hanging something over her head that could… what?

"Beej?" She whispered softly, making Beetlejuice jump a little, and look at her in surprise, as if he'd forgotten she was there. Immediately a rather irritated, and guilty look crossed his features, and he busied himself with straightening his suit, muttering something about the things we went through for breathers. "Am I gonna be all right?"

He waved this away as utterly unimportant. "Long as you keep your end of the bargain babes, you'll be just fine, no worries." Then he grinned, apparently remembering something, and added, "You got your own little loophole, remember? I ever do something that makes you absolutely hate me, the binding's off."

Juno frowned, slowly. "Is that true?" She asked the shaken goth girl, who only slowly turned her gaze back to the other. Lydia nodded, supposing it was. "And do you hate him now?" She pressed, apparently hoping she would. This time, Lydia hesitated, then shook her head. Honestly no, she didn't hate him. She wasn't exactly thrilled with him at the moment, but she didn't hate him. "Well, you aren't very bright now, are you?" She muttered, disapprovingly, but turned back to her paperwork regardless. "I see."

Lydia did feel rather like an idiot, for many reasons. But not for not hating him. She couldn't help how she felt, and despite every thread of logic she possessed, she still gave a damn about what was going to happen to the poltergeist, because of her. If she hated him, then surely she wouldn't.

For a while after this, they all just looked at each other. At long last, Juno let out a sigh, unmistakably a sound of surrender.

"Well, no matter what you think, she's not going to be able to go traipsing all over the Neitherworld anytime she wants, just because she's bound to you." The woman muttered at last. "And I sure as hell am not going to fill out all of your paperwork for you this time, so you're going to sit right there, where I can watch you do it, and fill out every last damn line, you understand me?"

Beetlejuice's face split in a grin, well aware that he'd won a victory here. Lydia was less certain how to feel about it… But she supposed that the two of them getting off with something as inconsequential as paperwork was probably something to be grateful for. If she was honest with herself even, more than worth the events of the night in the world of the unliving. She'd probably do it again in a heartbeat.

"Go on," He said, suddenly looking at Lydia again, "Send her home. She's got nothing to do here… And if I know a thing about you and your paperwork, Juno, I'm gonna be here all night. Kid's gotta get some rest, you know?"

"Afraid not." Juno denied grimly, making him look at her with a frown. "The girl has her own paperwork to fill out, and it can only be filled out after most of yours." A slow, utterly humorless smile graced her features. "Protocol, you know."

Beetlejuice considered the woman at great length, and finally surrendered it with a shrug. "At least give her something to sit on, you old bat. You ain't heartless, and we both know it."

Annoyed, the woman twisted her wrist, and a rather worn, if soft-looking, couch appeared just to the side. Checking to make certain this one didn't have bugs crawling all over it, though she hated feeling squeamish, Lydia climbed up on it, and immediately sank into cushions infinitely more comfortable than her bed.

"Can I keep this?" She murmured, not expecting to be heard as she willingly stretched up her full length along its wonderful support, her eyes already closing. It had been a long day. A _long_ day. And she really had no idea how late it was, but obviously they were going to be there for a while.

And in the end, all the rationalizing in the world meant pretty much bupkiss, because no sooner had the first of these thoughts formed, than despite everything that should be keeping her awake, Lydia Deetz was already asleep.

--

At roughly four in the morning, and several hundred forms later, Beetlejuice stifled a yawn, and considered the woman across from him, who hadn't said a word in hours. Making a sound of contempt, he turned his attention to Lydia instead, still sound asleep to the side. Sleeping the sleep of the dead. Sort of.

"Nice couch," Beetlejuice grinned slowly, tired of the silence, "You got a license for that thing?" Obviously the piece of furniture was influenced… And unless things had changed, there were rules against that kind of thing.

"Even I have to sleep at some point, Beetle. And warm milk stopped cutting it a hell of a long time ago." Juno still didn't look up from her own paperwork, or whosever it was she was filling out now. "Besides, a girl that age needs sleep. You want to make an inquiry, take it up with the head office."

Chuckling under his breath, he turned back to his latest form, in a seemingly endless line of them. His eyes scanned through the legal technical babble with only some struggle, and then with a grimace, he started filling out what needed to be filled out. As usual, in too much of a hurry to overly worry about fine print. "Just saying you old bat, you need to set an example for the rest of us troublemakers…" He muttered, tossing that form aside, and reaching for the next. He must have filled out three hundred packets so far.

"Don't compare me to you, Beetle." She advised with a sneer, closing her current folder, and reaching for another. "You had your uses, I won't deny you that…"

This was interrupted as the phone on her desk rang, and the steely caseworker actually jumped, looking at it like some alien thing that had landed on her desk. Apparently she wasn't used to getting calls, and was even less happy about it, judging from the string of obscenities that fell from her lips before she picked it up. "This better be important…" She began, only to have her face suddenly grow slack, and even, Beetlejuice would have sworn, a little strained. "It's you."

Now Beetlejuice paid even less attention to what he was filling out, too fascinated by the sight of his former boss apparently dealing with one of her own bosses. There weren't many of those, and none to his knowledge, that had ever had quite this effect on her. This promised to be fun… And hell if he was missing it.

"The Deetz case, yes I'm working on that now… What? No, of course she won't be…" Her words were broken off by whoever it was on the other end of the line. Her eyes were now the only part of her that was animated, flicking back and forth, even her smoking hand lying still upon the desk. "A what? You can't be serious… By whose authority?"

Beetlejuice was growing a little uneasy, wondering just what complaint had been made about the girl. It wasn't that she'd gotten into any trouble… Hell, _being _a breather in the Neitherworld couldn't be worse than bringing one there!

But if he was waiting for answers, it was a long moment of steadily building tension before Juno offered any insight at all on what was happening, and even then, it wasn't promising. "Does he have the authority to do that?" She hissed, sounding more than anything, frustrated. "I've always assumed the position was more that of a figurehead…"

And then, as he watched, Juno's face grew very angry, turning an impressive shade of pink for a dead woman. "Yes, of course I understand. And there's no way around it at all?" A pause. "Then I'll begin the paperwork immediately. No, don't worry, the girl's situation will be taken care of, personally."

With that, Juno hung up, and turned all that building frustration on him, her eyes promising retribution for… something. "How the hell did you manage…?" She began, only to cut herself off in mid sentence, waving her hand sharply through the air. "No, never mind, I don't want to know."

Beetlejuice didn't want to admit that he had no idea what the hell was going on, so he just smiled. And if it was a little tight, Juno apparently didn't notice, just looking more pissed. "Well, wake the girl up!" She snapped, all patience for either one of them now gone. "She may as well start filling out the papers for her visa now!"

Visa? Beetlejuice's head did a little spin, for once not literally, and he was left with the distinct feeling that he'd missed something important. "So she's gonna be able to visit the Neitherworld whenever she wants, huh?" He prompted, well aware that some heavy duty strings would have had to be pulled to manage something like that, and could only be done by the very, very higher-ups. What the hell was going on here?

"As if you didn't know!" Juno snapped, picking up a wad of paper from her desk, and throwing it at the sleeping human. "You girl! Wake up and get over here, now!" Beetlejuice wondered idly what poor sucker's paperwork wouldn't get filed now, to provide that little wake up ball, as Lydia stirred, and look nothing so much as surprised. "I am already getting just about as fed up with you, as him!"

"Whoa, not bad, kid." Beetlejuice muttered, a little irritated himself, since he still didn't know what was going on, "Took me centuries to piss her off this much. But good news, seems like if you just fill out a few forms… Hey, you'll be able to visit the Neitherworld whenever you want!"

"Really?" It came out as a little sound of delight, making him smirk, but was followed almost immediately by a veil of wariness falling over her face. "Wait, why? She said I couldn't before…"

"Things change, babes." Was the answer Beetlejuice settled for, not about to admit that he didn't know what the hell was going on either. He lips curled downright gloatingly, as he added, "Someone up there must like you, kid."

Bafflement touched her eyes. "Up… where?" She asked slowly. Beetlejuice just laughed.

"Girl…" Juno muttered, rubbing her temple with her free hand, "Just fill out your damn paperwork, and try to stay the hell out of my office after this. Understand?"

Her eyes turned to the caseworker, almost visibly turning over this latest twist to the game. Slowly she smiled, and Beetlejuice decided he loved that smile, absolutely begging for the chance to cause some trouble. "My name's Lydia," She said lightly, offering one last, decidedly dangerous, goad to the ghost woman, "Just in case… You know, you do see me again."

Juno glared daggers as her as she picked up the gleaming black pen, her eyes dancing like the devil's. "Now," She murmured, "Where do I sign?"

--

Lydia sighed as she pushed the last of the paperwork away, signed and completed. Her eyes had begun to glaze hours ago, and while she was no longer entirely sure what she'd agreed to, she did know that it would let her come and go with Beetlejuice as she pleased. "I guess that's it!" She noted with a forced lightness, determined not to show wearying that had been. "So we're free to go now, right?"

The caseworker lifted the most recent form between two fingers, looking at it rather like something dead. "You're free to go." She agreed bitterly, only to do a complete about face, and offer the girl a smile. "By the way, you should know that it's almost noon in the living world." She added, well aware that this new would not be greeted well.

For an extended moment, Lydia just stared, her mouth slightly open. "My parents, are going to kill me." She said slowly, this fact only now really hitting her. "Especially if they find out who I was with!"

"They won't find out that, babes." Beetlejuice denied confidently, rocking a little on his heels. "If they did, well, then you might be forced to violate your contract…" This last as he grinned at Juno, adding, "And hell, we don't want that to happen, do we, you old bat?"

"Your situation is now yours to handle, Ms. Deetz." Juno agreed flatly, clearly not liking this. "And I suggest you do your best to keep it that way. But surely a little living world trouble like this, is nothing to a girl who thinks she can handle the world of the dead…?" A dull smile crossed her face. "You really have no idea what you're in for… I'd feel sorry for you, if you weren't such a brat."

Before Lydia could contest this, and she was quite ready to, both Beetlejuice and herself were standing in her bedroom again, her caseworker nowhere in sight. Lydia blinked, then lifted her head to look at Beetlejuice, who looked nothing so much as bemused. "Think they'll notice I was gone?" She asked quietly, only to be answered by a shortly barked laugh from him.

She grimaced. He was right of course. "Bars on my windows won't be that bad…" She muttered to herself, going to the door. "Sure isn't fair that you're not getting in trouble too…"

"Already did the kid thing, Lyds." He pointed out, "And incidentally, I did have bars on my windows. You get used to it." Lydia gave him a dubious glance, and he just cackled, giving her no way to tell how serious he was. "Look at it this way… They lock you in, I'll sneak you out!"

"What's that saying?" Lydia muttered to herself, finally leaving her room, "Stone walls do not a prison make?" _Nor iron bars a cage…_ It was, oddly enough, somewhat encouraging.

She stopped at the top of the stairs to look down, and her heart fluttered in her first real panic, to see her parents, all of them, sitting tersely in the living room, with a man in uniform. Oh hell. This would be fun to explain… "Guys?" She prompted, rather hoping they wouldn't hear her. "Um…"

Everyone stood, quickly, and she almost wilted at the stricken look on her mother's face. "Lydia…" She breathed, a prayer and a curse in that one word. "Where have you been? You've been gone all night!"

"We were going out of our minds!" Barbara added, her voice just slightly more frantic than her mother's, before she paused, and for the first time that she'd seen it, the ghost woman looked angry. "Did you just sneak back into your room, thinking we wouldn't notice?"

Apparently there weren't many lies she could tell, to get herself out of this one. "I just went for a walk…" She muttered, lingering in the relative safety of the stairwell, rather than descend, and face their wrath head on. "It's not that big a deal…"

"Not that big of a deal?" This was her father's voice, and she shuddered at the coldness of his tone. "You were gone from your room all night, all morning, telling none of us where you were… We called your friends, we called the police!" He waved in the direction of the man in uniform. "And you say it's not a big deal?"

"I went for a walk…" She murmured, wishing to god she'd thought up a lie before she came home. "I wasn't tired, so…"

"You went for a walk?" Her mother's voice seemed near to breaking. "All night!" Her father said nothing more, just sitting suddenly on the couch, and putting his head in his hands. For now, Adam and Barb were silent, torn between relief and fury. "Where exactly did you go for a walk, all night?"

"Just into town." Letting her hair fall into her eyes wasn't cutting it, she couldn't hide from them this time. "And… in the trees for a while. And, um… by the bridge."

Her father didn't look up, but he was the one who spoke next. "With who?" He asked softly.

Lydia hesitated, just a breath too long. "No one." She said at last, as clear a lie as she'd ever offered. She kicked herself mentally, several times, before trying again. "No one's really out that late, town like this. It's not like I got into trouble."

"Oh, you are _in_ trouble, young lady." Her mother whispered, finally beginning to regain some control, and all in the form of anger. "Don't think you're sleeping today… I don't care how late you were out last night! You are going to do chores until your fingers bleed, and then maybe tonight you'll appreciate the chance to rest in your own bed!"

There really was no answer to this, so Lydia offered none. All she could think was, _Still totally worth it, _albeit a little angrily. She knew they were right of course. And that they had every reason to be afraid, to be angry, and that just made her more upset with them… And herself. And it didn't change a thing, because she knew she was going to do it again.

Her father stood slowly, and offered his hand to the uniformed man, who had remained silent through all of this. "I'm sorry for wasting your time, Deputy Garin." He said grimly, as the other hesitated before accepting the gesture. "Thank you so much for coming out here so quickly. I assure you, this won't happen again."

The officer, young to be a deputy in her opinion, looked like he'd really rather be anywhere else. He smiled tightly, shot her what was almost a sympathetic look, and hightailed it for the door without another word. Leaving her alone to await her newest 'punishment…' And she was certain that it would be no vague offer of a grounding this time.

It was Olivia who broke the silence. "You'll start in the basement." She informed her daughter grimly, apparently already over her fright, and ready for a little revenge. "You'll clean it until every speck of grime is off it, you'll sort every box, you'll dust every surface… And I promise you, that is only the beginning!"

Lydia nodded slowly, accepting such punishment as her due, but already her mind was turning forward to that evening. They had to go to sleep sometime, right? And then, oh, and then…

The minute they took their eyes off her, she'd be gone.

_--_


	7. Back to the Neitherworld

Beetlejuice… Will you be mine? May I possess you, heart, body and soul, rights and legalities? No? Well, it seems that I still don't own Beetlejuice… Too bad. Probably don't own Lydia either…

--

Okay people, I'll try not to be so hard on myself, that seems to be a common message. But I can't make promises. I just can't see my work with someone else's eyes... shrugs, then grins Though, some of you may be ready to throw things at me now for an entirely different reason. But heck, Lydia's only twelve in this one... If you wanted a Beetlejuice/Lydia fic, you're gonna have to wait until she's older. And someone's gotta keep her occupied, when Beetlejuice is off running his scams... Besides, Prince Vince is the villain far too often. It's about time he was seen as a nice guy, don't you think?

--

"Can't believe you talked me into doing that…" Beetlejuice grumbled, slouched over a bit in his usual position on the dresser. "All the juice I got to do whatever I want, and you make me scrub down rusty old pipes…" He gave her a long, reproachful look, which was utterly lost on her, as she sat bent intently over her books.

"You didn't help me yesterday," She pointed out, not the least ashamed of wiggling out of her punishment, "Running back off to the Neitherworld like that… I thought you wanted out so bad? Anyway," A slight frown, and a jotted answer, "If you hadn't helped me, they never would have run out of things for me to clean. As it is, I didn't get to go with you last night." Lifted eyes, accusing. "And especially now that I can?"

Beetlejuice showed his teeth, in something resembling a grin, but more feral. "You think I'm just gonna let you tag along after me everywhere I go, kid? I do have an afterlife…" She stuck her tongue out at him, and he chuckled. "Besides, word gets out that I'm hanging with some kid, a breather no less!" He sighed, clearly wondering at his own reasons for doing this. "Just be grateful I let you come along when I do, okay?"

Her gaze was long and studying, and decidedly disapproving, but then, as she had a habit of doing, she smiled suddenly, and changed the subject. "Thanks for helping me clean, Beej. I never would have gotten it done without you."

Taken aback a little at the belated thanks, Beetlejuice just stared at her for a minute, before his eyebrows flew up suddenly, and he started rummaging in his pockets. "Oh yeah, got an invitation somewhere here for you…" He muttered, sounding a bit annoyed. "Now where I'd put that thing?"

"An invitation?" Lydia's mouth pursed a little, in an amused smile. "Why don't you just tell me where you want me to come? What's with all the formality?"

"It ain't from me, babes." Beetlejuice answered, finally holding up a crinkled yellow envelope, with a slight twist to his features. "Guy tracked me down last night, gave me a wad of cash to make sure this got to you. Said it was some kind of invitation… Don't know from who. But hell, easy money!" He flicked his hand, and the message vanished, reappearing before her on the bed. "So go on, see what it is!"

Lydia suspected that he was actually far more curious than he let on, and so, smirking a little, she took her own sweet time opening the envelope, though she too was dying to see what was going on here. Inside was a simple cream-colored card, with her name in fancy black letters on the front. _Lydia Deetz_. She wondered if the name had ever looked so beautiful.

Flipping it open, there were more of the delicate, flowing letters inside, inviting her to a carriage ride through the Neitherwoods, and a picnic to follow. It gave her a time, and a place to meet. It was signed, Vincent.

Lydia made a small sound of surprise, and then color crept up her cheeks, as she reflected the kind of trouble this boy must have gone through to find her again. Just to ask her on a date? She'd never even been on a date before… A carriage ride, and a picnic? "Someone's a romantic…" She murmured under her breath, making Beetlejuice's eyebrows fly up again. "I can't believe this!"

"Who's it from?" Beetlejuice snapped, flicking his fingers to yank the note back to his hand, which he proceeded to read without waiting for permission. "What the hell? I left you alone for five minutes, tops, the other night! Where'd you meet this guy?"

"We were dancing." Lydia noted, amused that he hadn't even seemed to notice. "I figured it might be a while before you got back, so…"

Beetlejuice hissed softly between his teeth. "Your concern's touching, babes." Then he paused, looking up at her with a frown. "So you touched this guy? Shit, I didn't think I'd have to tell you not to pull some stupid crap like that! No way he didn't notice you were warm…" He shook his head, and turned back to the message, wheels still obviously turning in his head.

"He did notice." Lydia offered, feeling suddenly defensive. What kind of right did he have to call her stupid? Who in the world would have thought of something like that? "He said it was fine."

"Fine?" Beetlejuice just about choked on the word, then suddenly, as if something had just occurred to him, went very, very still. His eyes gleamed with thought. "So he'd be the only other one there that night, that knew you were a breather, right?" He mused slowly, not really asking her, so much as verifying it for himself. "So if someone decided they wanted you coming back…"

Beetlejuice frowned, and looked at the invitation again. "Vincent…" He muttered, "Who the hell is…?" Then his eyes suddenly went wide, and his jaw, literally, dropped. "_Holy. Hell_." He muttered aloud, turning his gaze from the invitation to her. "How many guys did you dance with that night, Lyds?"

"Just one!" She was still on the defensive, and felt more than a little uneasy about the way he was reacting. "Why? What's the big deal?"

His mouth twisted, and for a long moment he just stared at her. She was surprised when, a moment later, she could swear that there were tears swelling up in his eyes… And then suddenly he started laughing, so hard that he fell face first off her dresser. Other than making a little sound of pain at the impact, he didn't seem to notice at all, still snorting and chortling to himself. "One- One guy in the Neitherworld, she dances with," He gasped, holding his sides like they hurt, "And it's- it's…"

"What?" She demanded, getting off her bed, in the hopes of approaching him threateningly. He just curled his lip at her, still lying on the floor. "It's who?"

"It's," And here his smirk deepened, "_Vincent_." Only slowly did he roll back up to a sitting position, momentarily disconcerted to find himself looking up at her. It didn't last long though, before his grin returned. "Babes, I suggest you go. That guy pulled a hell of a lot of strings to get you permission to come and go as you please… It's the least you could do!"

Lydia's face clouded in puzzlement. "I thought you did that…" She prompted slowly, only to set him laughing again. "What's so funny?" She demanded, finally growing annoyed. "What aren't you telling me?"

"Babes…" Beetlejuice stretched slowly, getting to his feet, and fixed her with a wild look. "Me? Be real. There's maybe… Five people in the Neitherworld, tops, that could've done what he did to get you in. And we're talking all the dead who ever lived, and then some." He looked amused as comprehension slowly dawned in her features. "This is a guy who could pull one of the moons down from the sky, if he got it in his head to." A pause for effect. "Take my advice, don't stand him up."

"Shit." Lydia went back to her bed, sitting down, hard, her brow furrowed in thought. So he was that kind of powerful? But… He'd just seemed like a regular boy. Kind of shy, even. Awkward. Not the kind of person you'd figure for being able to get anything they wanted.

And now apparently, he wanted _her_. What the heck? "So… what happens if I don't go?" She asked slowly, more frightened than excited by the prospect now. Did she want to know someone that powerful?

He shrugged, as if it didn't matter much to him either way. "Dunno. Maybe nothing. Maybe he'll have you exorcised." Her eyes flew up to his in alarm, but she knew immediately from his expression that he was kidding. "Look, babes, think of it as an opportunity. You be nice to him… No telling how far you could go. Hell, if he asked me out, _I'd_ show up!"

"Which tells me more about you than I wanted to know…" She mused to herself, unable to resist the dig, even in her moment of uncertainty. Beetlejuice looked annoyed, but otherwise didn't respond. "I don't want to use him like that… He's a nice guy, and…!"

"And…" Beetlejuice interrupted, in a slow drawl, "If he's a nice guy, then it won't hurt anything to show up, right? Sounds like you got a thing for him. Look," He waved his previous words away, as if they were now unimportant, "Forget about what I said before. Go have fun. Girl doesn't get an offer like this every day, you know? Don't waste it."

He was right of course, and after a long moment of telling herself this over and over again, she finally convinced herself of it. A smile touched her soft pink lips, just a little, and she retrieved her note from the poltergeist's hand, looking at it again. Then her eyes widened in alarm, before flying to the clock. "Beej! This is in like half an hour!"

"Huh." He sounded unimpressed. "Better hurry then, huh?"

Lydia let out a muffled sound of fury, grabbing him by the shoulders, and shoving him towards the wall. "Get OUT! I have to get DRESSED!" Beetlejuice just lolled his head towards her in amusement. Like he gave a shit two ways about seeing her au natural…

"Fine, babes." He muttered, dusting his sleeves off. "Just call when you're ready… We'll take the direct route, this time."

Lydia almost asked what he meant, then decided that explanations could wait for later. As soon as he was gone, she started tearing through her wardrobe, desperate to find something that wouldn't make her look like a freak. But then, what had she been wearing the other night? Her _pajamas_… She swore she wanted to sink through the floor.

She settled on some snug black jeans, and a black turtleneck, figuring that in the Neitherworld, you probably couldn't go wrong with that color. It even made her look like she had a figure… Of course, that disappeared, the second she pulled her poncho on again, but what could she do? Black slip-ons secured her feet, and on impulse, she grabbed some black opera gloves that Grandma Delia had given her, only slightly modified.

Rushing back in from of the mirror, she twisted her fingers through her hair, and decided to stick with something simple. Her spider hairpin should do… The swipe of lipstick she sometimes wore completed the transformation. It was the most make-up her mother would allow her to wear, and that only, she was certain, for its gothic hint.

Looking at herself in the mirror, she finally noticed what she'd missed until now, the fading bruises that still covered half her face, even if they were only hints of what they'd been before. And he'd asked her to dance like this? In _pajamas_? Of course, the lighting had been bad, and… It was the Neitherworld, so most people looked much worse.

She still stared at herself in horror, suddenly ashamed to face him. It was ridiculous of course… But it didn't change a damn thing.

Slowly she turned from her mirror, and walked to the window, pushing it open. "I'm ready." She said softly, almost hoping he wouldn't hear her. Hoping she could back out, and it would somehow be his fault. "Beej?"

"Right here, Lyds." He chuckled from behind her, already perched on her dresser again. "Damn, didn't know you could get ready that fast... Guess you do wanna go, huh?" He straightened up a little, and offered his arm. "Well, come on kid, through the looking glass!"

"What…?" She began, only to have him reach down, snag her by the waist, with _huge_ hands, and toss her, apparently randomly, at her mirror.

The scream never rose far enough in her throat to be heard, and the next thing she knew, she was falling… Really, really far. But the next thing she knew after that, Beetlejuice was beside her, reaching to grasp her arm, apparently unworried. Nonetheless, Lydia grabbed for him with both hands, making him snort. "Shortest way there," He informed her, matter-of-factly, "If you'd just get it clear in your head where you wanna go!"

Lydia shut her eyes, trying not to panic. _Corner of Grim-sum Avenue_… She thought to herself desperately, hoping she didn't have to know what it looked like too. But which corner?

Suddenly she wasn't falling anymore, her feet on solid ground, with little to no impact. Still a muffled 'whuff' escaped her, before she opened her eyes, and looked around warily. The first thing she looked for was the street sign… Well. The corner of Grim-sum Ave, and Grim-sum Ave, apparently. How exactly did the Neitherworld work?

The next thing she looked for was Beetlejuice, his attention turned to some creature passing by that at least looked female, to her eye. She wasn't entirely certain, but apparently Beetlejuice was, because he started after her. "Hold on!" Lydia cried, grabbing for his arm. "What about me?"

"Huh?" He barely glanced at her. "Don't worry kid, you can get back on your own now. Just use my name… Pop, back out the mirror. You got a visa now, remember? You don't need me…" And he proceeded to shrug her off, and chase the nameless woman into the crowd, leaving her alone.

And Lydia suddenly felt very, very alone. The only living person in the whole Neitherworld. And she wanted nothing more than to scream Beetlejuice's name, and get the hell back out of there. But then of course, she remembered Juno's words… Damn it, if Beetlejuice thought she could handle it, maybe she could! Her chin stuck out a little, stubbornly, and her eyes scanned the streets. She was pretty sure he should be here soon…

There were a number of carriages. Or maybe coaches. She really didn't know which was which. But only moments after she began to seriously question her sanity again, she saw him. An open top, which might be what made it a carriage, all in polished blood black, with the guy she was supposed to meet, already looking ahead anxiously to see her.

As it stopped, not two feet from where she stood, Lydia took a step back, and turned her eyes to the beast drawing it. It looked like it had been a horse… once. Now it was mostly bone, and a few exposed muscles, chomping teeth, and little flecks of fire for eyes. She stared at it, entranced, before finally turning her gaze back to Vincent.

He watched her with an anxious gaze, eyes still dark with emotion, lips still drawn in a frown. Handsome to her eye, in his own otherworldly way. He seemed, she suddenly realized, very nervous, as if suddenly he were as intimidated by her, as she was of him. So doing the only thing someone can do in a situation like that, Lydia smiled.

And slowly, Vincent smiled back.

--

They'd ridden together for what had to be the better part of an hour now, and thus far, not more than a handful of words had been said between them. Lydia didn't mind, she liked listening to the strange, eerie sounds that filled the air around her. But she didn't know what he was thinking, and that did weigh on her mind. She hoped he wasn't uncomfortable with the quiet…

"Do you, not wish to be here, Miss Lydia?" Vincent asked suddenly, making her blink, and turn to him in surprise. Though it was exactly what she'd been hoping he wasn't thinking. He was staring intently at his hands, which were folded before him, his mouth drawn in a frown again. "I apologize, perhaps I was too forward, assuming…"

"Vincent?" She prompted, making him look up at her nervously. "This is seriously deadly-vu."

His eyebrows puckered in puzzlement. "Deadly… vu?" He echoed, clearly not certain of the meaning of the words. "I don't understand. Am I to take it that you, are enjoying yourself?"

"Yeah, I love this place. It's way creepy." She looked past him this time, into the menacing shadows, and flickers of light. "I mean, you think just about anything can be out there, right?" Her voice grew a little awed, just thinking of it.

"I assure you, we're quite safe." He promised quietly, making her look at him with a bit of puzzlement herself. She was not one to immediately associate scary and dangerous… But she supposed that her words were true, there really could be anything out there.

She sat back a little, and considered the boy, who returned her gaze evenly, showing little of what he was feeling. Lydia sighed, tilting her head. It had become awkward. She hated awkward. But she didn't look away from him yet. "Why are you so nervous?" She asked at last, making him look startled. "I mean, I'm supposed to be nervous, right? I've never been on a date before. What about you?"

"A-a date?" He echoed softly, as if he simply hadn't thought of it that way until that very moment. "That is, yes, a few… Though they never worked out very well." His hands were curled quite tightly into fists now, and she wondered if she should say something that would make him calmer.

In the end, she just shrugged, and turned her eyes back into the trees. "That happens, I guess. Anyway, I think this is pretty deadly myself… I mean, cool, you know. By the way," She tried to work this in as casually as possible, "Was it you?"

"Was, what me, Miss Lydia?" He asked, still intent on anything but her.

"The visa?" She prompted, grinning a little. "Beej said you were about the only one who could do something like that… It was pretty awesome of you. I mean, you don't even know me, right?" She pushed some of the hair away that had blown in her face, musing, "If it weren't for you, I think I might have gotten in some kind of trouble… More trouble than I did. So thanks."

"Yes… Well, it was the only chance I had to see you again, Miss Lydia." He pointed out, making her grimace a little, then laugh. "What is it? Have I said something funny?" He seemed a little hurt. "I-"

Lydia just kept smiling, turning her dancing eyes back to the boy at her side, who fell suddenly quiet. "You keep calling me, 'Miss Lydia.'" She pointed out, still amused. "It's kinda old-fashioned, in a good way, but… You can just call me Lydia. I don't call you 'Mr. Vincent…' right?"

"Yes…" He agreed slowly. "Lydia, then." He seemed to consider this for upwards of a minute, before speaking again. "I was, rather surprised, when you agreed to dance with me, Lydia. I thought for certain, a creature so beautiful as yourself…" His breath caught, briefly, before he continued, "That is, knowing nothing of my station…"

Lydia shrugged, embarrassed, not used to being called beautiful. Least of all when she was in her little kid pajamas, and covered in bruises, with no effort at all to tame her hair. "I probably didn't do too well." She noted aloud. "I've never danced with anyone but my dads."

"On the contrary, you danced wonderfully." He denied, finally relaxing his hand. At least enough to lay it, hesitantly, over hers. She couldn't help but find his awkward shyness charming, somehow, and made no objection. He jerked, just a little though, as he touched her, before noting quietly, "And you were, so warm."

"I guess." She was relaxing again, somehow his nervousness had transferred to her, but now things seemed to be a little better. Though she wished, now that he was looking at her, that he wouldn't stare quite like that. Like she was just so fascinating… "Where I come from, everyone is."

"Not in the Neitherworld." He too, sat back a little, and seemed to calm. "This world doesn't frighten you? I understand the living are often frightened by the dead…"

"Two of my parents are dead." She pointed out, before realizing that must sound strange. "My foster parents are ghosts," She explained, when he indeed looked at her a bit oddly, "They've helped raise me since I was born. It was never weird. Besides," And her eyes gleamed as she added this last, "Creepy is _fun_."

"Fun." He repeated. He seemed to have a habit of doing that. "And are you having fun now, Lydia?"

"Hmm. Yeah." She drew her knees up to her chest, pulling her free hand around them. Sort of a reflective pose for her, though it probably looked infantile. "I am. It's not that cold this time, with this poncho Beej gave me." She didn't mention where he'd gotten it though.

"Beetlejuice." It surprised her a little, the way Vincent seemed to have no trouble saying it. Was it only the living that couldn't say his name, without yanking him back and forth? "I'm quite pleased he was able to deliver my message. May I ask though… What your relationship with him is?"

Relationship? Lydia made a small moue, and considered this. It seemed almost laughable, calling anything she had with Beetlejuice a 'relationship.' "Partners in crime." She said at last, then giggled when he gave her a shocked look. "Not literally. He's my friend, and I'm kind of his way in and out of the living world. I called him on accident, the first time… But now we've got a deal, and I get him where he needs to go, and he hangs out with me sometimes. Nothing big."

Then she paused, considering the boy with a slow look of amusement. "You didn't think we were dating, did you?" She teased, tilting her head to the side a little. "He's still hung up on my mom… Not that he has a chance with her. Besides," And she made a little face, "He claims he's not that big of a pervert. Personally, I wouldn't put anything past him though. But don't tell me you were jealous?"

She swore Vincent looked, if possible, even more uncomfortable. "Of course, if you were involved with someone, the gentlemanly thing to do would be for me to bow out gracefully…" He murmured, a little below his breath. "However, I am quite relieved that that's not the case, I must admit."

Lydia considered him at length, as he then seemed to run out of things to say. This time she was the one staring, and made no bones about it, remembering that he hadn't before. It was weird, to say he was good-looking, because by human standards, he shouldn't be. But he was. There was something about him though, deep and emotional, vulnerable somehow… The way she'd always tried her best not to be. And it made her lower her defenses around him.

_I am so not ready for a boyfriend… _She mused to herself, enjoying the feel of his hand over hers anyway. Though… "I can't stay out too late," She warned softly, "I'm still in trouble from sneaking out before, and my parents don't actually know I'm gone now. If they found out…" Her eyes rolled slightly at that scenario. "They'd put bars on my windows."

"Bars?" He echoed again. "On your windows?" The thought seemed to alarm him. "Perhaps if I simply explained my intentions, it might set them at ease… Should I speak to them?"

Lydia glanced at him, alarmed. Explain she'd gone out for a date in the Neitherworld, with a guy she'd met while hanging around with Beetlejuice? God no, that was a can of worms she definitely didn't want to open! "If my parents ever find out about you… _or_ Beetlejuice… I won't be able to come to the Neitherworld again for a long, long time."

"I see." His lips pursed a little, as he considered this. "Yet I thought you said that your foster parents were themselves ghosts. Should that not imply a bit more… open-mindedness?"

How exactly to explain this? Lydia finally just shook her head. "Please, just… Believe me, they can't know. All right?" He nodded slowly, accepting this, though he still looked troubled. "But hey, that means I can come whenever they're asleep, or out. Or it's early enough."

Vincent gave her a very serious look, nodding again, then noted quietly, "It isn't seemly, for someone of my station to agree to such a thing… But I do have wish to see you again, Lydia. Therefore… I will remain silent where your parents are concerned. Agreed?" She nodded, relieved. "Then perhaps we may continue our, date?"

Wondering what he meant, she was caught off guard as the carriage chose that moment to draw to a stop, and she finally looked at her surroundings again, for the first time in several minutes. They were in a clearing, beside several dark and skeletal trees, where an elaborate feast had been set up for them, lain out in silver and crystal. The blanket looked like crimson velvet, and the whole thing was lit by several dozen candles, all burning without fluttering a flame.

"Whoa." Lydia whispered, just staring for a moment, before realizing that he'd gotten to his feet, and had yet to relinquish her hand. Standing slowly, she climbed out of the carriage after him, and allowed him to lead her to the center of it all. She was spared one wild moment to wonder if she could even eat Neitherworld food, Beetlejuice did eat bugs after all, and so was more than a little surprised by how utterly normal all the food looked.

She glanced at Vincent for an explanation, and he looked wary, but hopeful. "I had some living world delicacies brought over for you, Lydia. I thought, your being living yourself, you might not appreciate Neitherworld fare." At her slow smile, he looked relieved. "Then please, join me."

Gathering her poncho around herself, she sat down, and was thrilled at the soft brush of the velvet against her hands. Crushed velvet, she thought they called it. It was as soft as anything. Who would use material like this for a picnic blanket, and in the middle of the woods? She adored the color…

Realizing that he was looking at her again, once more a bit puzzled, she lifted her head curiously, wondering what was wrong now. "Your markings." He said suddenly, leaving her for one breath to wonder what he was talking about, "They're fading. Are you quite all right, Lydia?"

Markings? _Oh_… Her bruises? She was quite certain she turned bright red. "They're bruises," She muttered, embarrassed to realize he'd thought she always looked that way… And still thought she was beautiful, apparently. Did that mean he wouldn't think she was beautiful, when they were gone? "It only happens when the living get hurt, and then they fade when they heal… You didn't know?"

"No." He answered honestly, suddenly looking quite grim. "I've never been living, myself… Who is it that hurt you Lydia?" He suddenly seemed far less hesitant than before. "Was it that creature that drew you from me… Beetlejuice?"

Oh hell. There was no telling what he'd do to the poltergeist if he thought it was him! "No, no… Crap, he's never hurt me!" She denied, a bit defensively. "Actually, he kind of got back at the girl that did this…"

Vincent looked nothing less than shocked. "A woman did this?" He repeated, as if she must somehow be mistaken. "Are you certain?" Forgetting his hesitancy before, he'd now reached out, and turned her face ever gently, to get a better look at the damage, not realizing how horrified she was by his stare.

"Buncha… girls… Um, can you not look at me like that?" She mumbled, embarrassed. Immediately his hand drew back like he'd been burned, and he looked anywhere else. "It's not a big deal, it's happened before…" This though, was exactly the wrong thing to say, because his face instantly became stone again. "But Beej, he took care of it!" She added hastily, hoping to end this before it got any worse.

"Beetlejuice…" Vincent said slowly, turning this over. "Perhaps then, he is not the lowlife creature I've been led to believe."

"Oh, he is." She assured him, back on somewhat comfortable territory, "But that doesn't mean he's a total creep. He's pretty fun to hang around… I wouldn't say _nice, _but he's looked out for me before." Deciding she should change the subject, she stretched a little, wincing at the stiffness still in her back from the day's work.

And again, he was apparently watching closely enough to notice this, so her plan to change the subject failed. "Are you still in pain, from your injuries?" He pressed, his eyes looking deep and gentle now. "Is there perhaps something I can do?"

"Um… It's not from that." She denied, waving it away. "I had a bunch of chores to do the last couple of days, to make up for sneaking out… That, and doing all my studying on my bed, since I don't have a desk. I'm just a little stiff from bending over my books, I had a ton of homework." Which, she realized now, she really hadn't finished…

"I see." This seemed to mollify him, and oddly enough, the entire atmosphere seemed somehow calmer, as if by his temporary boldness, he had conquered whatever hesitance had left him so uncomfortable before. "Lydia…" She looked up, expecting him to say more, but this was apparently all he intended to say, just staring at her with a small, gentle look on his face. Even if he wasn't smiling.

Now Lydia was the one to feel awkward… But she was also the one smiling.

--


	8. Surprises

Beetlejuice… Will you be mine? May I possess you, heart, body and soul, rights and legalities? No? Well, it seems that I still don't own Beetlejuice… Too bad. Probably don't own Lydia either…

_--_

'_WHUMP!_' Something collided with her mattress, hard, making her bounce into the air, as a voice hissed, not two inches from her ear, "Will you wake _up_ already? I'm sick of fucking waiting!" Lydia was already shrieking from the suddenness of her wakeup call, she didn't need to open her eyes, straight from sleep, and find herself almost nose to nose with the ghost with the most. She screamed again, this time louder.

"Shit!" Beetlejuice stumbled back, hands clamped over his ears, looking annoyed. "What the hell, I just-" He broke off suddenly, vanishing from sight as both Barbara and Adam came straight through the ceiling, making no mind for doors.

"Lydia!" It was Adam yelling. Adam never yelled. "Are you all right?"

Her heart going a mile a minute, Lydia took a moment to realize that it had in fact, been Beetlejuice who'd woken her so suddenly, not some creature from a rather nasty horror flick she wanted to forget. Beetlejuice, who the Maitlands couldn't know about. Her tongue felt tied up in a lump at the back of her throat, but she blinked, already looking for an excuse.

Fortunately, she didn't have to think of one. "Nightmare, sweetie?" Barb murmured, determining that there was no immediate reason for her to scream like that, and looking decidedly relieved. She looked like she'd been more scared than Lydia…

"Um, yeah." Lydia whispered, her senses slowly returning to her. As such, she couldn't quite resist a small smile, and a weak attempt at humor. "The thing that came from the laundry pile…"

Barb sighed, and looked amused, though just barely. "Well, you should be up already anyway. You have to get ready for school." Glancing at the clock, Lydia saw that she was right. She'd forgotten to set her alarm, and the poltergeist had let her sleep in… About five minutes.

Once alone again, her eyes panned the room wildly, finally coming to a stop just to the side of her wardrobe, where, she wasn't sure why she was so certain of this, Beetlejuice was standing. "Don't ever," She growled, still annoyed, "Do that again!"

Beetlejuice just faded into sight, looking endlessly amused. "Hell kid, you got a set of lungs on you, you know that?" He wriggled his finger in his ear, pulled out something disgusting and shapeless, and flicked it off to the side. Lydia prayed she never found it. "Thought you were the quiet type…" He cast a little half grin at her, adding, "So come on, give me the details!"

Details? Slowly her memory of the night before returned, and any lingering irritation with the poltergeist vanished, as a smile crept across her face. He wanted details? The hell with him. Those were her memories. Instead she tilted her head, narrowing her eyes as she realized something. "How did you get back on this side?" She asked warily.

Grunting, Beetlejuice gave her a long look, letting her make no mistake that he knew she was changing the subject. "You called yourself back with _my_ name, babes. Seems like that calls me back too, same time. And I gotta tell you… You gotta helluva timing! I was this close to-" And here he paused, looking at her again, and then using one of her own tactics against her, abruptly changed the subject. "So, you have fun?" He asked, giving her a decided leer. "Mr. Morbid and Depressing put the moves on you?"

Lydia made a small sound, humor or disgust, there was no way to tell. "I knew you were that perverted." She grumbled, finally getting out of bed, and allowing herself a small stretch. "And for your information… No, all he did all night was hold my hand." He made a little, scornful sound, and muttered something about spineless types, and wasted opportunity.

Ignoring him, Lydia started looking for a clean uniform, glad that she didn't have to try to find something different to wear every day. Not that she didn't have her own style, and enjoy it when she could show it off… But 'her own style' would probably make school life that much more unbearable.

"Anyway, what do you care?" She challenged him, holding a semi-intact skirt out at arm's length. She went through these uniforms like anything… Usually thanks to Claire and her goons. Of course, that probably wouldn't be a problem anymore, she reflected, enjoying that fact more than she really should have. Still… "Do I have one outfit left that's not totaled?" She muttered to herself, reaching for a different one.

Beetlejuice was considering her from his usual spot, what passed for a thoughtful look etched on his features. "You know babes, when you get a few years older, and a little…" He made a gesture at his chest with his hands. "That little school girl uniform is gonna look positively indecent on you!"

Looking at him in surprise at the statement, Lydia suddenly grew very warm, grabbing the nearest thing she could lay her hands on, which happened to be said uniform, and began beating him over the head with it. "Stop thinking that!" She laughed, more amused that angry. "You disgusting, filthy, perverted…!"

The ghost covered his face with his hands, but he was cackling too. "What? It's a compliment, you psycho little bitch!" As she proceeded to beat him, he finally gave up protecting himself, and vanished altogether, leaving her staring at the empty spot where he'd been. From his new place on the bed behind her, he noted. "I'm just saying, babes…"

Lydia cut him off with a sound of exasperation, grabbing her clothes, and marching out of the room with them. She'd get dressed in the goddamn bathroom…

She didn't see Beetlejuice again when she emerged, which she was already beginning to realize was somewhat of a mixed blessing. It meant she didn't know what he was up to… She swore, if she caught him straddling her mom in the yard again!

Things seemed to have descended into some level of normalcy in her family again, as she joined them for breakfast. As normal as things ever were anyway. The meal passed uneventfully, other than a warning from her mother to come straight home from school, since she was still grounded. It was all Lydia could do, not to make a face at that. They wanted to keep her out of trouble. They really had no clue what she considered 'trouble' these days…

And she sure as hell wasn't going to tell them, she reflected, already looking forward to what would almost certainly be another night of breaking rules. What they didn't know though… It was all she could do, not to laugh with the secret she kept. But that would spoil everything… And this was one good thing, she was determined not to see spoiled.

--

"So, I don't know if he likes me, I mean _likes_ me, or if he's still hung up over his old girlfriend!" Bertha complained with a sigh, straightening her book bag on her back. "But did you see how good he looked today, Prudence? I mean, maybe he's out of my league, what do you think?" Prudence gave some unintelligible reply, at least to his bored ears, and Bertha nodded vehemently. "Exactly! What if…?"

Beetlejuice was about ready to pull him hair out… Or at least give one of them a good juicing. "Enough!" He snapped, turning furious eyes on the girl who wouldn't shut up. Why exactly had he thought that walking Lydia home from school was a _good_ idea? "Talk about something else, before I light your hair on fire!"

An awkward sort of silence followed this, while Lydia did her best to look disapproving, and managed nothing so much as relieved. Then Bertha, fount of gossip, began again. "Did you see the new transfer student in the boy's school? I think he's in the ninth grade, but I don't know what his name is…" Beetlejuice adjusted his sleeves, ready to make good on his promise, when her next words stopped him in his tracks. "I think he totally has the hots for you, Lydia! I swear I saw him staring when we passed by…"

Finally, something interesting, if only because it would make the goth girl squirm. Beetlejuice grinned, and gave Lydia a long look, daring her to find a flippant way out of that one. The girl though, just ducked her head, ran her fingers through her hair, and denied flatly that she'd noticed.

"Come on! He was so cute! If I was a few years younger…" Bertha got a dreamy look in her eyes, and abruptly seemed to forget she was talking, staring ahead into space so intently that she almost ran into a lamppost. Disappointingly, Prudence, who seemed to be paying no more attention to her surroundings than the other girl, reached up and yanked her out of the way at the last moment. Bertha didn't even seem to notice.

Bored again, Beetlejuice was wondering how he could turn the conversation his way, when abruptly, both girls seemed to shake their sense of utter obliviousy, and determine that they had to take a different route, the rest of the way home. "Goodbye Lydia! Goodbye Mr. Beetleman!" He still almost fell over laughing at the alteration to his name, but waved absently, glad to see them go.

"Honestly babes, how do you stomach those two so long?" He demanded, and then, before she could answer, just when she thought he might have forgotten, he grinned, and jumped in with something different. "So, you and _Vincent_…" He still seemed to delight in saying the name, for whatever reason. "Come on, you gotta give me something… Throw a dog a bone?"

He reached into his chest as he said this, and pulled out what looked like a rib, twirling it slightly, before it disappeared into vapor. "I got a hook into the hottest gossip in the Neitherworld, and you won't even give me a hint?" He gave his best puppy dog look, which was, admittedly, quite disturbing.

Lydia reached out, shoving his face, which was unsettlingly close, back just a bit. "What's to tell?" She grinned, well aware that there was really nothing to tell, but that he wouldn't believe that. Pretending she was just saying it to drive him crazy was, well, driving him crazy, and _fun_. "We took a carriage ride… The horse was seriously freaky… And we had a picnic. Real world food and everything."

He just gave her a long look, certain she was keeping something truly juicy from him. In the end, Lydia could only laugh, and at this, he looked affronted. Realizing maybe she'd pushed him a bit too far, Lydia cast him a glance from the corner of her eye, and decided, indeed, to throw a dog a bone. "I'm going to see him again this Friday, you know."

Beetlejuice's eyebrows flew up, and he considered her with a positively leering expression. "I knew it babes, I knew you were leaving the good stuff out… So come on, what'd you let him do, to make him ask you out again?"

"I'm not you Beej, and neither is he." She informed him flatly, tiring a bit of her game. "He didn't so much as try to kiss me. And I don't know if I would have let him if he did. Maybe." She shrugged. "As much as seeing you pull your hair out is fun, really Beej, _nothing happened._"

Finally he seemed to believe her, looking disappointed. "Well hell, why didn't you just say so to begin with?" He muttered, annoyed to have wasted his time. "Kid, if you're not gonna be any fun, I am _not _wasting my time trying to make you something you're not." He snapped his fingers then, and abruptly she was walking alone.

She was annoyed with the ghost, until she realized that her house was in sight, and it was probably best for all concerned if they weren't seen walking together. She hoped to avoid her parents altogether… If she was lucky, the living ones were out. Of course, Adam and Barbara were always there, that couldn't be helped. Still, if she could at least get to her room without being noticed, that would be a good start.

No such luck. No sooner had she stepped in the front door, than Adam looked up from where he was sorting the mail, why she didn't know, and gave her an appraising look. "On time, so no detention… No new bruises either… Could it be you actually didn't get into trouble today?"

That was, she thought, positively unfair. She did not get into trouble _every _day… Not that he knew, anyway. She just gave him a measured look, and after a moment, his lips twitched in amusement. He gave her a pat on the head, like she was still five or something, and noted, "You can't blame me for being relieved. Now, try to keep it up, and we'll all be happier."

Lydia made a small, rude sound, which Adam gallantly ignored, going back to the mail. "Liv!" He called suddenly, making her wilt, as any ideas of escaping without further drama was lost. "Looks like that response you were waiting for came! The one about your photos?"

Her mom's photos. Lydia grimaced. Another area where she could never match up to the older woman. Olivia floated down the stairs, there really was no other word for it, an excited look flashing in her eyes. It only faltered a moment when she saw Lydia… But then she forced a smile, and came the rest of the way down, accepting the envelope.

"This is the biggest magazine you've ever submitted for!" Adam noted, as Lydia tried to take the moment to sneak away. "If your photo has been accepted…!"

They were all interrupted, at that moment, by the doorbell ringing. For a moment, it was as if they couldn't possibly have heard that, her parents even looked confused. Next to no one came to visit them… And Lydia was baffled as well. If there was someone out there with her, close enough to be there now, she should have noticed.

Her mother answered the door, as Adam answering it would have left too many questions for whoever was on the other side. Lydia too stuck around, just long enough to see what was going on.

There were two men on the other side of the door, looking, to say the least, haggard and worn, dressed in mismatching clothes, with a large antique desk sitting between them. "Delivery for Lydia Deetz?" The taller one muttered, in an unfamiliar accent, holding out a clipboard for signing.

Olivia blinked, then turned, and looked at her daughter, who honestly had no more clue than she did. Seeing this, she turned back to the two men, ready to explain that there had been some mistake, only to have the clipboard thrust under her nose again, and the words repeated, a bit more impatiently. "Delivery for Lydia Deetz?"

"Um, I'm Lydia Deetz…" The girl offered hesitantly, only to have the form now waved under her nose. Distinctly aware of her mother's stare, she accepted the pen he thrust forward in his other hand, and signed her name at the bottom. She still had no idea what was going on… Until she saw the other familiar name on the paper. '_Vincent.' 'Vincent Royal_,' no less. She swore for a minute that she forgot to breathe.

"Where do you want it?" The shorter man asked, it apparently being his turn to speak. The two were already lifting the desk, so she gestured them forward absently, even as she put the signed delivery form on top of it.

Neither one of her parents spoke as she led the men to the stairs… But things became even more strange, for them at least, when Barbara appeared at the top, and was in distinct danger of being run over by them… Only for the short man, in front, to stop, and nod to her briefly. "Excuse us ma'am." He greeted her cursorily, making the surprised ghost woman step aside for them. The taller man said nothing, not even looking in her direction. But it did give Adam and Barb something to murmur over in low tones, as Lydia continued leading them to her bedroom.

Lydia of course, knew exactly why the man had been able to see Barbara… He was a ghost too. Fortunately, the unusualness of a guest being able to see Barbara caught her own mother's attention as she would have followed them up the stairs, preventing her from seeing Lydia's doorway suddenly yawn widely to accommodate the large desk, which otherwise would have never fit through it. Lydia herself was left blinking a little in puzzlement at the sight, though she was forced to recover quickly, as she was asked again where she wanted it.

As it turned out, it fit smoothly between her dresser and her wardrobe, both of which admittedly inched aside to make room for the heavy wooden furniture, but then accommodated each other easily along the wall opposite the foot of her bed. The tall man reclaimed his form, glanced it over, and nodded at her tersely. "Everything seems to be in order here… Pleasure doing business with you."

"Um, wait, am I supposed to tip you?" She asked uncertainly. "Because I've only got a few dollars right now, but…"

"Already taken care of." The short man assured her, scratching at what she suddenly saw was a bullet wound to his head. "We wouldn't hear the end of it if we tried to take money from you… Royal himself gave us a healthy tip for delivering so far out of our usual range." And he too waved dismissively. "Pleasure doing business with you." And the two proceeded to go back the way they came.

Lydia rushed after them, to see Barbara shyly curl her fingers at the one who'd spoken to her before. He smiled and tipped his hat, while stubbornly, the other still refused to acknowledge anyone, now that his form was signed. "It was nice meeting you!" Barbara called after them, still thrilled to have met someone else who could see her for a change.

And now of course, came the question of where the desk had come from, as she knew it would. All three of her present guardians turned to her in puzzlement, while her mind raced desperately, and futilely, for a lie. She really needed to get better at this…

"Guess he didn't want the desk after all." She muttered at last, deciding on her deception. Giving her mother a chance to question this, she walked over to the desk itself, and admired it at length. It really was beautiful… An amazing shade of deep red, with sides sharply jutted up in the shape of carved bat wings, elegant sweeping curves, and a smooth polished finish that look new, though there was no doubt that the desk itself was anything but. "He said he was probably going to take it with him."

"Who?" Adam prompted, her mother for now, remaining silent, as she too admired the new piece of furniture. "Someone you know?"

_No, someone I don't know_… Lydia's mouth twisted to hold in the smart ass reply, as she nodded slowly, still not turning to face them. "This guy from the boy's school… I don't know him that well. Vincent. He said his family was moving, and he had to get rid of a bunch of stuff. He asked me if I needed anything, and I said that the only thing I didn't have was a desk."

She paused, letting this sink in, before continuing her lie. "He said he had one, but was probably going to take it with him. Guess he changed his mind." Then, appreciatively, she added, "I had no idea it was this nice."

"It is nice," Her mother agreed, running her hand over the finish lightly, "You shouldn't have agreed to accept it." Then, pausing for a moment of though, she suddenly prompted, "How well do you know this boy, exactly?"

"I only met him a couple of times." Lydia answered honestly, relieved that this at least, didn't have to be a lie. Every time she told one, she got the distinct feeling of wrapping herself further and further into a mass of spider strings… She was going to twist herself to pieces, one of these days. "He seemed nice. I think he might have liked me. But he'd be gone by now…" Again, true enough. Sort of.

"Hmm." Her mother accepted the deception, a bit reluctantly she thought, and finally shook her head. Simply unable to find flaw with her daughter's story. "Well you better take good care of it. This desk is obviously old… And it would be a shame to let something so beautiful get ruined. I didn't even know you wanted a desk though…"

Of course not. Because whenever she brought it up, her mother changed the subject. Just like with her bike. "Well, I've got one now." She noted, more pleased by this than she cared to admit. Especially since it seemed she'd gotten away with it. But she would have to have a serious talk with Vincent.

That could come later though. For now… For now it was good.

--

The new desk was heaven. She loved just sitting at it, running her hands slowly over its smooth surface. She'd been doubly delighted to open one of the drawers, and… She didn't know how, have a full sized matching chair pop out at her, all layered in the same crushed velvet she'd admired the night before. For the moment, she didn't worry about having to explain that too… It was _comfortable. _And she swore she'd hug Vincent the very next time she saw him.

But in the end, the desk was really for doing homework, and this was exactly what she was deep into doing, when Beetlejuice decided to pop in to pay a visit… And jumped about two feet into the air with a sound of outrage, as the shifting of furniture caused him to come down squarely on one of the sharp bat wings of her new desk, rather than his usual place on the dresser.

"What the hell?" He snapped, landing on the floor with a baffled, pissed off expression on his face. "Why'd you go and move the damn…?" And this was as far as he got, before he noticed her newest acquisition. His eyes widened, and a low whistle escaped his lips. "Whoa, not bad, babes. Where'd you get the fancy writing set?"

"Vincent…" She said slowly, ear sharp for any sound that might say he'd been overheard. "I made the mistake of telling him that I didn't have a desk… And he decided to do something about it." She made a little face. "It was sweet and everything, but…"

"But nothing, babes!" Beetlejuice grinned, a look that made her suspect that what he had to say next would be anything but welcome. "Come on, I'll give you a list of things to tell him you don't have… We'll split it down the middle, fifty-fifty! I say we start with jewels…" A low cackle escaped him, once again making her wonder just how serious he was. But then, this did involve money, so he probably was.

"I am never suggesting that there's anything I need to Vincent, ever again." She denied flatly, hoping to cut this suggestion off in the bud. "I just had what looks like a century old writing desk in perfect condition, delivered by a couple of dead guys-"

"Hey, babes." Beetlejuice cut her off with a frown. "Dead guys? I didn't expect you to be the kind of girl who says racial shit like that…"

"Racial?" Lydia frowned, puckering her brow. "How is saying 'dead guys,' anything racial?"

"Well, hell." He rocked back on his heels a little, crossing his arms. "You make it sound like some kind of a bad thing… Like being a dead guy is something you can catch. And there ain't no word for being prejudiced against the non-living, so…" He gave her his best serious look. "I'm disappointed in you, Lyds. Expected better."

Lydia just stared at him, suddenly uncomfortable, wondering if she did secretly hold some sort of prejudice against the dead… Only to have him suddenly burst out laughing, unable to maintain a straight face. "I'm shitting you, babes! No one gives a damn if you call a dead guy a dead guy… 'Bout the only thing that's off limits is calling one a corpse. Other than that, no one really gives a fuck either way!"

Frustrated, relieved, and still a little guilty, Lydia made a face at him, before turning back into her studies with single minded determination… Not to rise to any more of his crap. "Anyway, you can figure how hard it would have been to explain, if anyone had figured it out." She pointed out slowly, only to once again, be cut off by the poltergeist.

"Hell babes, I'm really curious how you managed to explain it anyway!" But then, having said this, he made no effort to go any further down that road of questions, sitting himself comfortably in midair, and using the back of her chair for a footrest. Laughing again when she shoved them away, and just replacing them with a grin.

Lydia picked up her textbook, and threw it at him. "Will you let me do my homework?" She demanded, annoyed with the ghost's shenanigans, though he wasn't acting any different than usual. He just caught the book, and threw it back, making her lift her arms to protect her face… And after a moment, lower them again, puzzled, to find the textbook right back on her desk.

He of course, seemed to think this was endlessly funny, cackling to himself as he drifted away, starting to poke around in her wardrobe instead. She considered berating him for this as well… Then decided that there was really nothing in there that she had reason to hide from him, and used his moment of distraction to get back to her homework.

And everything seemed to be going fine, until she ended up with a plaid skirt on her head. "Beej!" She snapped, rising to her feet in horror to see her clothes now strewn from one end of the bedroom to the other. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Seeing if you got anything decent to wear in here." He grumbled, throwing a pair of stockings randomly over his shoulder as well. "If you're going to be seen with me on the other side, I don't want you bringing my reputation down."

"Reputation?" She started to demand scathingly, only to belatedly catch what he was saying. The other side? A smile grew across her features, as she closed her current folder, deciding she really could use a break. "What did you have in mind?"

Beetlejuice just laughed.

--


	9. Odd Behavior?

Beetlejuice… Will you be mine? May I possess you, heart, body and soul, rights and legalities? No? Well, it seems that I still don't own Beetlejuice… Too bad. Probably don't own Lydia either…

--

Sorry for the delay, getting this up! Not that it was a long delay... I was reading 'Wuthering Heights,' figured I'd put off reading the only known novel by my favorite poet long enough. Now you just try, going from reading something like that, to writing something like this... Heh.

--

The Freaky Eye Scream Shop was, while admittedly, freaky, not nearly so far in the direction of utterly bizarre as the nightclub had been.

Still, it had its macabre charms, laced here and there about the vaulted ceiling with tinkling spider webs fashioned of slender chains, bone white tables that might actually be just this, and a low sing-song of notes that permeated the air, shifting from one moment the next. What she thought were lovely cages of skeletal bat sculptures, turned out to be very much alive, or dead, as the case may be, following visitors around with their hollow eyes, or rustling their wings with tiny clicking sounds.

They had to wait in line, which Beetlejuice seemed ill suited to do under the best of occasions, rocking on his feet, staring irritably at any and all, and offering the occasional grumbled curse under his breath. Once they got to the front of the line, he shortly ordered a red rum raisin eye scream for himself, making her laugh shortly as she immediately got the joke, and everyone else look at her a little oddly.

Beetlejuice though, took it all in stride, actually cracking his first smile as she appreciated the oddly placed humor. "And babes here with have a slop sludge sundae." He finished, not letting her order for herself. At first she thought to berate him, but then, looking over the very long list of very bizarre flavors, she decided to keep her mouth shut.

They took a corner booth, the poltergeist immediately digging into his dessert for the first few spoonfuls, and only pausing when he saw that she'd yet to touch her own. A grin grew across his face as he followed her eyes to others eating similar fare, every so often a sharp, short shriek cutting the silence.

Lydia finally turned her gaze back to her own treat, interested, and a little disturbed, to find very real eyeballs tucked here and there amid the piles of frozen cream, all topped with something that looked positively toxic. "You wouldn't feed me something that could kill me, right? She asked flatly, not looking up at the ghost, who was certain to find this endlessly amusing. "I mean, this isn't poisonous, or radioactive, or something?"

He just cackled, not answering, and let her take her own sweet time in trying the odd Neitherworld delicacy. Finally she took a small spoonful of the cream, avoiding the green goop or eyeballs for now, and tasted it hesitantly. Something like, frozen whipped cream, only sweeter.

_Okay, not so bad_… Next she took a bite with some of the slime, thick and sticky, that oozed down the sides of her piles of frozen cream. This, this was warm, and grainy to her tongue, like sugar crystals, and tasted of nothing so much as a mild, warm, thick sweetness, which left her tongue tingling a little, as if it were carbonated. Okay, again, not so bad.

She finally turned her attention to the worst of it, the eyeballs. She was not going to back out of this, if only because Beetlejuice would never let her live it down if she did. But she hoped to god that they weren't actually real eyeballs. Still, she dug one out, tucked it on her spoon, and gave the poltergeist the most defiant look she was able, before popping it in her mouth, whole.

It was _cold_, and felt to her mind very much like a real eyeball, a delicate skin stretched tight over its round surface, slightly slick, and tasting just barely of salt. It was all she could do, not to spit it back out, or gag… Instead, she did her best to crush it between her tongue, and the roof of her mouth, hoping to get this over quickly.

The eyeball popped with ease, and a sharp little shriek that ran through the inside of her head, making her gasp, and thus, choke. Coughing and spluttering, she reached for her soda, at least she supposed it was soda, and tried to make sense of the little death she'd apparently caused. And all the while, Beetlejuice sat there laughing his ass off.

Lydia glared at him with a frown, when she was finally able to breathe again. "You could have warned me!" She snapped, well aware that as the only one there who needed to breathe, everyone in the little diner was now staring at her as if she came from another planet… Which she supposed she did.

"What fun would that be, babes?" He challenged easily, grinning at her without even the slightest attempt at remorse. "Come on, you're only gonna be surprised by that once… Hell, what kind of guy would I be, if I warned you?"

"A decent one?" Lydia muttered, reaching determinedly for another eyeball. She was going to be ready this time, and figure out what the damn things tasted like. She ignored Beetlejuice, who just said something rude to her comment, as she'd known he would, and took another bite. More slowly this time, she pressed down on the dessert…

It popped in her mouth easily, filling her head with that little scream again, but this time she was ready for it. What she wasn't ready for was the rush of icy rich sweetness that flooded her mouth, so cold it could have been frozen, but wasn't. It was a heady sensation as it flowed down her throat… The 'skin' which had bothered her before, more like a delicate pudding skin, slightly salty, and accenting the sweetness within.

Quite simply, it was not only delicious, but the best part of the dessert. Rooting out the remaining eyes diligently just made the poltergeist snicker, before turning back to his own treat, far more idly. Bored perhaps, with what wasn't the least bit strange to him.

"I don't get why you want out so badly," Lydia noticed at last, when her dessert was finally half gone, "The Neitherworld is wickedly deadly." He made a small sound with his nose, showing what he thought of that. "Seriously… Is it that bad to be dead?"

Beetlejuice looked up at her with a little twist to his lips, gesturing in her general direction with his spoon. "You try it babes, about six hundred years or so, and tell me if the novelty doesn't wear off after a while." His long, strangely colored tongue flicked out, as he lifted the bowl, licking the last of his treat away, before he lifted his eyes to her again. "It's easy to get on this side… But once you do, it's hell to try getting back out."

Lydia's eyebrows meanwhile, flew up under her mop of hair, as she pursed her lips in thought. "Six hundred years?" She echoed softly, as if this were some sort of impressive achievement. "Are you serious?"

The ghost grimaced. "No kid, I'm lying 'cause it's just such big shit to have been around this long, trying to get back to your side, and manage to fail every time." He pointed at her bowl. "You gonna eat that, or what?" Lydia took her bowl with both hands, moving over it a little possessively, and he gave a shortly barked laugh. "Yeah, like even this shit don't get old after a while…"

He leaned back, hooking his thumbs behind his head, and stared at the ceiling, apparently losing interest in the conversation. Lydia considered him at length, before finally turning back to the eye scream, wondering if this was a bad time to press him. Not that that ever stopped her, exactly… "I figure eternity's a lot less long if you have someone to spend it with." She noted, choosing her words carefully.

Beetlejuice grunted, lowering his head far enough to roll his eyes to her with a frown. "You volunteering, kid?" He joked humorlessly, before adjusting himself, and bringing his heavy boots up on the table, not three inches from where she was still eating. "Trust me, you got yourself in deep enough already…"

She made a little sound, it might have been amusement. "I mean a soul mate." She corrected him easily, making the ghost stiffen a little, and look at her again. "Six hundred years… You'd think you'd find someone to pass the time with."

"You think I ain't tried?" He sneered, giving her a dangerous look. "Do I gotta remind you the last time I tried to get that ring of yours on some broad's finger?"

Lydia's hand went, self-consciously, to her chest. She'd adjusted the shoelace so that the gleaming bit of gold now hung directly over her heart… For once without anything smart to say, she just shook her head, feeling suddenly sorry for the poltergeist. She didn't know if he'd really loved her mother, but it had been a bum deal anyway. No one deserved to be alone. Not for eternity.

Correctly interpreting her silence, Beetlejuice's lip curled back to reveal his jagged teeth, looking suddenly dangerous. "You try some pity shit on me, little girl, I'll take you to the wrong end of town, and leave you there, with a raw steak tied around your neck!"

She didn't believe for an instant that he would, and just pursed her lips, staring into her messy swirl of green and white. "Hard ass." She muttered to herself, finding that she was resorting to such language more and more around him. "Don't pretend you don't give a damn."

"Who's pretending?" But now he seemed occupied with staring at the ceiling again, if only briefly, before slamming his hand out, and swiping what was left of her dessert off the table. "I'm bored as fuck. Let's get the hell out of here."

Lydia sighed, looking at the broken bowl, the mess of goop, and the several angry or just nosy glances in their direction. Tugging at her bangs, she got to her feet, and gave Beetlejuice her most even look, trying to remember that one infantile response was enough for the conversation. "Did you want to go somewhere else?" She asked pointedly, already secretly hoping that he'd come up with something even more fun.

"Hell yeah." He looked at her with a fanatical glint in his eye, and a slow grin. "You ever been to the racetrack, babes?"

--

Barbara knocked lightly on Lydia's door, reluctant to simply barge in. She could still remember being that age, and wanting her own space… Some illusion of privacy. And the girl had been behaving since her extended punishment, so maybe the worst of it was over. Better to go in with that attitude anyway, than assuming things were just going to keep going from bad to worse…

But Lydia didn't answer, so after a moment, Barbara knocked again. "Lydia? You're not sleeping, it's the middle of the day!" A pause, then, "Can I come in?" Still no answer. Barbara grimaced. The girl was sulking, fine. She should just leave her alone then.

Instead she cracked the door, and peered in, stopping in surprise at the state of utter disarray the room was in. Clothes everywhere, as if she'd emptied both wardrobe and dresser, and cast their contents as far from either as she could muster. And nowhere, in all the mess of it, the girl herself. "Lydia…" It was a little curse this time, as she came in, looking around to make certain she hadn't missed her. What could the child mean by this?

She almost started putting everything away, simply from unease in seeing it strewn about the room that way, before catching herself. No, Lydia had made the mess, she could clean it up too. But the girl was grounded, where did she think she'd gone?

Spotting a note on Lydia's desk, she lifted it, and saw in hurried writing, the words, '_Gone out for eye scream. Back in a couple hours_.'

Eye Scream? Barbara allowed a smile at the girl's odd twisting of words, and sighed, looking around herself again. At least this time she'd left a note. And presumably wouldn't be gone long. But that didn't change the fact that she was still_ grounded_.

Already thinking over what to say to Lydia when she got back, she was struck with a sudden thought as she looked around at the mess again. What _had _Lydia been thinking, doing this? 'Looking for the right outfit… For what?' She puzzled.

For a boy, of course. Relief flooded Barbara's face, and she sagged briefly against the girl's desk to hold her up. That was what this was all about, that explained all the sudden friction between the admittedly, growing girl, and her family, as well as her resistance to obeying. This was probably her first crush… And of course she suddenly felt much older, and far more restrained, than she had just before.

She wondered idly whether this had anything to do with 'Vincent,' the boy who'd given her the desk, and how much of that might be a lie as well. A brief grimace touched her mouth, before she reminded herself that every girl went through this phase, some just earlier than others. Still at the point where you couldn't admit you had a boyfriend easily, but with undeniable interest in just that…

"Lydia…" It was a plea for patience this time, and she recovered a pen from the desk, scribbling in letters below her daughter's own, '_Nice try. We'll talk when you get back_.' Then she straightened up slowly, casting a puzzled glance at a chair she didn't remember, and drew her hair from her face with a sigh.

She was certain, _certain_, that neither herself, nor Olivia, had caused this much trouble when they were that child's age. But then of course, she hadn't known Olivia at that age… The girl might well have been a horror!

Leaving the room as she found it, she went downstairs to get a glass of water, her dry throat ignoring the logic that she didn't need it. Adam was at the sink, rinsing out his brushes, and looked up with a smile to see his wife, who ventured a weary smile back. "Still upset, is she?" He mused, damping down the bristles with a dry washcloth. "Give her time, she'll get over it."

Barbara rolled her eyes at him with a little grimace. "She's not there. She went out for ice cream." This brought a similar expression to Adam's face, as he stopped what he was doing to pay full attention. "At least this time she left a note."

"Progress." He agreed, setting down his work, to come place his arms around Barbara's shoulders. His nose buried briefly in her hair… God she still smelled like she did when she was living. Like clover and sunlight. "But we're still going to have to talk to her when she gets home. I wonder what's gotten into that girl lately?"

Barbara briefly considered sharing her theory, but was pretty sure that constituted a violation of Lydia's trust… Even if it hadn't been offered. "She's a teenage girl." She shrugged, leaving this to be one of those female mysteries that men simply couldn't understand.

"Uh-huh." Adam pushed her back a little, looking at her over his glasses. "You realize she's twelve years old, right? That is not supposed to count as a teenager."

His wife just made a soft sound of acceptance, not denying it, and laid back into his arms. "Do you think we might be getting too old for this, Adam?" She teased, well aware that he, like her, had stopped counting their age years before. It just no longer seemed important… She still felt young. Then, she still felt alive, too…

He just chuckled into her hair, dropping a kiss on the side of her neck, and went back to his brushes. "I think that Lydia would make anyone feel old," He noted, smiling again, "Just wait until it's her turn… I guarantee you that she'll feel old before her time one day too."

"Uh-oh," Barbara murmured, amused, "The father's curse…" Of course, it would come in time, she supposed. It always did. For now though, most likely, this would be the easy part.

_Just wait until she starts bringing them home…_

--

Lydia had barely felt the thick carpeting under her feet once more, before she turned back on Beetlejuice, eyes flashing, hands on her hips. "I can't believe you _did_ that!" She hissed, only keeping her voice from a yell for fear of being overheard.

"What's not to believe, babes?" He countered, looking a little cross himself. "Look, I told you I'd split the money with you… What's your deal?" He leaned against the wall, to all appearances frustrated at her utter lack of willingness to understand. "It was just five bucks!"

"My _last_ five bucks!" She threw her arms up when she saw he wasn't listening to her, him pulling out a cigarette instead. "Beej, you cannot just steal from me!"

"Yeah, yeah." He muttered, just sitting there with the thing in his mouth, not yet lighting up. "I won, didn't I? And now you got thirty bucks. How's that a bad thing?" This was the first time she'd actually gotten upset with him, and he was surprised at how much he didn't like it. "Just take the damn money, and shut the hell up!"

Lydia took a slow, deep breath, before turning her back on him, deliberately. "Beej…" It was a soft plea now, and made him flinch a little, hearing it. Damn, he'd have been better off if she kept yelling at him… What the hell did he care what she thought anyway? "It isn't about the money. If you'd asked, I would have given it to you. It was just a lousy five dollars."

"And I won." He added, making sure he'd gotten that point across. "And now we both got money." But he still watched her warily, certain that her tirade was far from over.

She cast a glance over her shoulder, pursing her lips impatiently. "You didn't know you'd win." She pointed out shortly. To this, Beetlejuice just grinned, waggling his eyebrows at her devilishly. It put her momentarily off her step. "Don't tell me you cheated…" She pressed, a small smile creeping across her lips, despite her best efforts.

"Me? Cheat?" He scoffed, straightened up, and adjusted his lapels, trying to put on an act of dignity. It was utterly destroyed by, well, everything about him, but he went on, as if not noticing it. "I'll have you know, I don't know the meaning of the word, 'cheat.'" Actually, the truth was that he hadn't, at least no more on that last race than any of the ones he'd lost, but he wasn't about to tell _her_ that.

Lydia gave him a long, even look, before her face abruptly softened, and gentle laughter fell from her lips. "I'm just going to have to get used to not being able to turn my back on your for a second, I guess." She mused, shaking her head. "I can't expect you to change for me…"

"Now, babes," He interrupted, giving her an even look, and a positively evil grin, "Seriously… Would you want me to?" He made a casual gesture with his hands, indicating himself, and added cockily, "You know you love me."

He'd gotten a lot closer to her, in his confidence, as he said this last, so she just scoffed, and pushed him back with a smile. "Clean up this mess." She advised shortly, "I should have made you fix it before we left…"

Beetlejuice was still chortling, but somewhat surprisingly, twitched his fingers, tucking everything quickly back where it had been before he attacked it. Well, roughly, anyway. Even if she'd never be able to actually find what she was looking for again.

She meanwhile, checked her note, to see if it was where she'd left it. She'd be better off if no one had noticed she was gone… A quick glance at the paper quickly quashed that notion, however. "Urg…" She made a little strangled sound, making the ghost look at her oddly, before he snatched the note from her fingers.

"Huh. Babs, is it?" He seemed unimpressed. "You know, I still got something of a score to settle with that little bitch…"

Lydia shot him a terse look, never sure how serious he was about hurting other people, even if she didn't believe for a second that he'd lift a finger against her. "Leave it in the past, Beej." She advised him shortly, making him peel his lips back at her. "I mean it… She's family."

"Family's overrated, babes." He informed her shortly, reaching into his pocket, and miraculously, pulling out what he wanted on his first try. "Take this for example. You know what this is?" He held what looked like a gleam of silver into the light, narrowing his eyes at it. "_This_ is where family gets you, Lyds."

Lydia came closer, inspecting what looked like a small metal beetle, no more than two inches high, covered in green and blue mold, and barely distinguishable as what it seemed to be. "I'm surprised you still own anything valuable." She noted dryly, letting him put in into her hand anyway for inspection. It was _cold_… And felt somehow like it was humming under her touch. Ghostly energy? In a piece of jewelry?

He made a small sound of agreement at her words. "Hocked everything else for booze." He noted bitterly, watching as she poked at the thing in her hand, looking far more fascinated with it than some bit of metal should make her. "Kept getting it into my head to do the same with that… 'Cept I changed my mind every time. _That_, Lydia, is what I left behind at my place, and then turned around to go get."

"Some kind of family heirloom?" She prompted softly, more mesmerized with the dirty bit of gleam than she could explain. It was creepy, yes. Otherworldly, definitely. But it was also just, beautiful.

He made an indelicate sound. "See… Me, babes? I wasn't exactly the pride and joy of my family. Kinda got into trouble at all turns, broke things, stole things, gambled… Hated my old man like anything. All that did though, was make everyone else turn against me too. So one day, he meets me at the door, and says I can't come back in. He drops that bit of silver in my hands, and says it's my inheritance, all he'll ever give me, so I should take it and leave."

Lydia lifted her eyes from the pretty thing, finally, to meet his. "You couldn't have been that bad." She frowned, not liking where this story was going. "My parents would never-"

"Different times, Lyds." He suddenly snatched the beetle back, as if uneasy without it, and frowned, as he gazed at her. "Don't you be spreading this around, kid. I'd get rid of the damn thing if I could… Ain't worth the silver it's pressed from."

Of course, Lydia didn't believe that for a minute, and considered him with a little frown. He had the odd sense about him, of being angry at old wounds, and ready to lash out. She wondered what the hell had made him vulnerable enough to open up to her like this… She had no doubts that he was regretting it already. She couldn't have that.

So instead, Lydia gave a short, humorless laugh, making him look at her like she'd sprouted a second head. "And here I thought you were trouble now! If you've gone soft since then Beej, even I would have run the other way, knowing you as a kid!"

Beetlejuice cackled, any insecurities fleeing him instantly, and flipped the thing into the air, catching it easily. "Babes, if you were a kid back then, your folks would have thrown you out with me! And hell no, no way I've gone soft… Just going easy on you is all!" He tucked the thing back into his pocket, pulling out a box of matches instead. "Teach me to confide in a breather…" He muttered, grinning despite his words.

"Thrown out together, a couple of trouble-makers…" She made a face at him. "No doubt you grifted everyone in sight, why should that stop now?" Then a pause, before her features softened, and she looked at him with an odd gentleness. "But you would have looked out for me, I'm certain of it." Beetlejuice just scoffed at this, saying nothing, and after a moment, she retracted it, sitting in her chair slowly. "No, maybe you really are that big a hard ass…" She murmured, certain it was a lie.

"You better believe it, babes!" He agreed vehemently. "This poltergeist is in it for one guy, and that's me!" He drew a long puff of smoke, and let it flow from his lips lazily. "But I gotta admit, if I have to be tied to some living kid to open doors for me…" He said no more than this, simply lidding his eyes, and gazing off at nothing at all.

But it was his unspoken words that Lydia was learning to like best, anyway.

--


	10. Mirrors

Beetlejuice… Will you be mine? May I possess you, heart, body and soul, rights and legalities? No? Well, it seems that I still don't own Beetlejuice… Too bad. Probably don't own Lydia either…

--

So... tired...

--

Lydia had a harder time than usual that morning, finding anything to wear… Literally, _finding_ anything. Making Beetlejuice clean up hadn't done a darn thing, she was still going to have to go through, and rearrange everything!

But somehow she managed to get ready, and was straightening her hair, as well as she ever did, when she heard a low, hesitant voice from nowhere. "Miss Lydia? Are you decent? May I speak to you?"

Frowning, she looked around her room slowly, not certain where the voice was coming from. "Vincent?" She prompted slowly, not sure how he could have gotten to the living world without, well, summoning him somehow. But maybe that was just Beetlejuice. "Yeah, I'm dressed, where are you?"

"Right here, Lydia." This time the voice came unmistakably from behind her, and she turned back around to see Vincent's features etched behind the mirror of her dresser. "I'm terribly sorry if I've troubled you… I simply couldn't wait until our date to see you again." His face was drawn with worry, as if she might be upset over this.

Lydia just grinned. "As long as you weren't peeking, I've got no problem." She assured him, making him fluster, and assure her that he'd never _ever_… She laughed lightly. "All right, so now you've seen me. What did you want to say?"

"I was wondering…" And here he hesitated, before continuing. "Did you get your gift, Lydia? Did you like it?"

"Oh!" She made a little, rueful sound, which he seemed to misinterpret, frowning. "Oh, and I told myself I was going to hug you for that, the next time I saw you, …" She bit her knuckle, wondering if she should try now, but of course now it just felt too awkward. "It's- it's beautiful, Vincent… But you shouldn't have."

His expression, beginning to lighten, suddenly looked confused. "Then, you _don't_ like it…" He prompted slowly, clearly disappointed.

"Vincent," She sighed, "I love it, and it was just what I needed. But didn't you stop to think how I was going to explain it to my parents?" Clearly he hadn't, and now fidgeted a bit, as if expecting her to berate him further. "I mean, I did okay, you know? And I'm glad you did it. But… Maybe don't send anything else over here, okay?"

The young man sighed, and nodded. "I had not thought that it might cause you trouble… Surely you receive such gifts from all your suitors?"

All her suitors? Lydia's brow twisted up at this. "How many guys do you think I'm dating?" She asked slowly. He started to answer, and she cut him off, shaking her head. "Look, you know what? It doesn't matter. I _told _you last time, that you were my first date." She paused, letting this sink in. "Why, do you think I should date more people?"

This of course, was a question without any good answer, and she knew it. In truth, she gave it to him for that very reason… But not to be cruel. Still, as he looked at her with more and more uncertain eyes, she tilted her head, and said slowly, "You know, there was this guy from the high school… Exchange student. My friend said he was checking me out."

"O- oh." Vincent looked positively crest-fallen, and she felt a little bad for her game… But of course, she was going somewhere with this. "I see. And of course, you wish to see him as well…"

"No, not really." Lydia denied, rather evenly. "The guy's way too preppy for me." Now she rested her chin in the palm of her hand, her heart pounding a little faster than before. Was this what she wanted? Maybe she was too young for this kind of thing… "Really, there's no one else I want to date. What about you?"

"Me?" He hadn't decided yet if this was good news or not yet, so he gave her a long, thoughtful look before answering. "No, Miss Lydia. You're the only one I wish to continue courting."

Continue courting? Ah well. She considered him for a long moment, absorbed by his eyes, deep as midnight, and infinitely darker. Eyes like that could really creep a lot of people out… But she thought they were incredible. "Then do we make it official?" She asked softly.

"Pardon?" Cute he was, swift he wasn't. He clearly had no idea where she was going with this. "Make what official, exactly?"

"Are we, exclusive?" She asked softly, wanting to laugh again as understanding finally dawned in his eyes. "I mean, just you and me. Not seeing anyone else. Every Friday night, or whenever." He seemed to be growing more astonished by the minute, and at last she frowned. "You don't want me to be your girlfriend?" She challenged quietly.

"My girlfriend!" His face suddenly lit up like she didn't know it could, and he cracked a small smile, reaching through the mirror to take her hand. "Do you mean it, Lydia?"

She looked down at their hands together, and grinned, before looking up at him. "Look, you're the first boy I've ever liked. Not to mention the first guy that's ever liked me… So it works both ways, right?" He nodded, waiting for her to continue. "Of course," She tilted her head, and considered him through lidded eyes, "If you're an old-fashioned kind of guy, you can ask me to go steady, instead of leaving it to me."

Vincent hesitated, looking at her again with wonder, before licking his lips, and venturing softly, "Lydia… Will you, go steady with me?" She didn't answer him right away, considering him thoughtfully. "What is it? Have you changed your mind?"

Sighing, Lydia shook her head. "This is the part where I'm supposed to make you sweat. Of course I'll go steady with you, it was partly my idea!" And she was willing to leave it at that.

To her surprise, Vincent laughed quietly… She was sure he didn't do that too often. "You shall keep me on my toes, Miss Lydia… Lydia. Yes, steady." He looked pleased as anything, and she was glad he'd taken it this way. If he couldn't handle _that_… Well, they wouldn't last long, would they? "Should I give you some token, to make it official, as you say?"

"You already gave me a desk…" She pointed out, wary of any more surprise gifts, but intrigued. What girl didn't like presents?

"Yes, but… I shall give you a ring!" He exclaimed, growing more animated by the minute. "A promise ring, my Lydia!" His Lydia? It surprised her, how much she liked hearing him say that. "And you shall wear it in anticipation of the day-"

And here, suddenly, he cut off, growing as red as he was able. "That is… If perchance you should ever grow so fond of me," But then abruptly, his hesitation vanished, and with surprising resolve he informed her, "One day Lydia, I shall make you Princess of the Neitherworld!"

Well, that was a little sudden, wasn't it? She considered him thoughtfully. "Wouldn't you have to be a prince to do that?" She puzzled, trying not to dwell on what he was really saying for the moment. Of course, maybe he could pull strings for that kind of thing too. Maybe the Neitherworld didn't have a princess. Maybe she'd be the first.

Vincent looked surprised. "But… I am a prince, Lydia." He offered after a moment. "Didn't I tell you?" When Lydia laughed, thinking it was a joke, Vincent was bewildered, but smiled anyway, glad to have made her happy. "Well then, perhaps one day." He settled for at last, quietly. "Perhaps one day, you'll be my princess."

"Not for a while." She agreed, giving his hand a little squeeze, before drawing back. "Look, I better get going, or I'm going to have to run all the way to school…"

At first he started to release her, but then suddenly, his hand tightened on hers again. "Lydia?" He prompted, a bit uncertainly. "I have heard rumors that a beautiful living girl was in the Neitherworld last night… At the Freaky Eye Scream Shop. Was it you? If I may ask?"

_And who else would it be?_ She mused, giving him a little half smile. "Yeah, Beej took me." She made a face, and added after this, "Then he took me to the racetrack." Not that it hadn't been fun. She left out the fact that he'd stolen from her though, since that was their business, and she'd already settled it.

"The racetrack?" He seemed surprised. "Hardly the place to bring a young lady…"

Lydia made a face at him. "Young lady?" She echoed. "Come on Vincent, it was just the racetrack. Besides, it was _fun_." He still looked a little baffled, so she pressed on, determined to make him understand. "I've never seen so many kinds of creepy… The horses were awesome. Especially this one I saw. With a mane like gold, otherwise all black, but almost normal looking, except for these jaws with huge lower teeth, and these tiny curling horns, and hooves like they could rip you apart…"

Her eyes glazed a little as she described it, and then without warning, she jumped to the race itself. "In the middle of one of the races, a horse with these huge mandibles tried to bite another one in half! But they stopped him, so no one got hurt." She paused, realizing she was rambling, and grinned at him. "You know, before I visited the Neitherworld, I never could figure why girls go so crazy over horses."

"And, now you can?" He prompted slowly. "That's why you admired the beast drawing our carriage the other night? I thought perhaps he frightened you…"

"Only in the best way!" She chuckled, eyes glinting with the memory. "But I really gotta go, Vincent. If I'm late for school, I'll have to stay after… again."

"Ah, yes." He released her belatedly, albeit with a small sigh. "Well then… Until I see you again, my Lydia?" But she was already running out the door, waving to him over her shoulder. He considered her vanished form, amused and… happy. "One day, Lydia," He murmured more softly, certain this time, "I _will_ make you my princess."

And then he too, was gone.

--

"I knew it was too good to last…" Bertha murmured, her voice the quietest Lydia had ever heard her. She was gazing across the lunchroom at Claire's new gaggle of loyal worshippers, flocking around her like imprinted geese. It had taken a few days for the blonde to recover her conceit and confidence, but the fact that her old clique had fallen apart, with too many people wanting to take over her place, certainly had helped paved the way for this new one.

In an abrupt turnaround, the former rulers of the school held, at best, a shaky popularity somewhere far below the teen queen, while others, whom she'd never have given the time of day to before, now held undisputed rule, under her command. It was really kind of like watching Animal Kingdom… Only you really never expected a down and out to return to power quite so quickly, with entirely new followers.

"You can't keep a truly evil person down." Prudence noted aloud, not looking up from her notes. She'd barely touched her lunch, apparently she had a test coming up. Not that she wasn't already guaranteed to ace it…

"Some people are born leaders." Lydia agreed, toying with her carrot sticks. She rarely ate them, but they were great for carving into little helpless townspeople for the dressing blob to devour. "If only she would use her power for good… But then I guess she wouldn't be Claire." She made a little sizzling sound with her tongue, as the 'townspeople' were drenched in ranch.

"Aren't you too old to be playing with your food?" Prudence noted, though she was finally looking up from her work, and smiling as well. "You do that every day… Shouldn't you at least eat them when you're done?"

"I think I'd rather eat a spider…" Lydia grimaced, though she lifted one dutifully anyway, and bit into it with a savage crunch.

"Speaking of weird guys," Bertha prompted, grinning hugely, "I didn't see Mr. Beetleman walk you to school today. I'm kinda glad… Not that he's not a nice guy, I guess, but it is a little strange." Her voice dropped a little. "And he's kind of gross, you know? He wears that same dirty coat every day!"

Lydia deliberately chewed her carrot, trying not to choke with laughter. "He's not so bad." She denied dutifully, when she was finally able to speak again. "It's not like he smells or anything… Not really." Maybe a little. But nothing unpleasant. Just a sort of dusty old stuff smell. Not corpsy- which he wasn't- or B.O., or anything. Maybe mold. "Besides," And here she grinned, "He keeps me guessing. You never know what to expect from the guy."

Prudence sighed, and Bertha rolled her eyes, but neither pressed it any further than this. Lydia mused that if they ever became really concerned about her, they'd break their unwritten code, and tell her parents… Which of course, only proved what good friends they were. But they also trusted her judgment. For now, they'd leave it alone.

Which was good. Lydia found her mind turning to Vincent after a moment, as she continued eating through her hated orange roots, without really noticing. A ring… Well, she already had a ring, didn't she? Not that she could tell him that, without it getting weird. _Yeah, I'm wearing Beetlejuice's ring_… She made a face, and sighed. The guy was worried all the time as it was.

And yet… He made her smile. A lot. And her heart beat a little faster, and her stomach fluttered, when she remembered how he'd smiled at her. It was kind of just on the whole, I like you as a friend who's a guy thing at first, but somewhere along the way… She realized she liked him. _Liked_ him.

And of course, she couldn't tell a damn soul, except Beetlejuice. She looked at her two friends, girls who naturally loved gossip like that, and smiled tightly. Well hell, a good secret wasn't worth keeping, unless it was hard to keep, right?

Suddenly a scream echoed through the lunchroom, and one of the teachers, not a student, but a teacher, burst through the large double doors, her face pale as a sheet. She was breathing hard, her eyes wide as saucers as her gaze flew around the room in a panic, and only slowly seemed to make sense of their surroundings. "C-c-class dismissed…" She whispered, before falling face first on the tile floor, to all appearances in a dead faint.

A murmur rose up among the students assembled, while Lydia's mind was racing full tilt. _Please don't be Beetlejuice… Please don't be Beetlejuice… Please don't be-_ She was already on her feet, and running towards the fallen teacher, while everyone else simply stood there, and stared in shock. She was barely aware of Bertha and Prudence following her.

The three knelt down next to her, Lydia couldn't remember which class she taught, but thought her name was Mrs. Parmer. "Come on…" Lydia murmured, patting the woman's cheek anxiously, half dragging her into her lap. "Tell me what you saw back there…" There was of course, no answer forthcoming.

When she realized this, Lydia practically shoved the woman back off her, and stood, looking the direction she'd come from. If it was the poltergeist, she'd… Well, she didn't know what she do. At this point, probably laugh in relief. Because for the first time she could remember, Lydia was scared. And she wouldn't feel better until she knew why. "I'm going to check it out." She murmured, already starting that way.

Both her friends grabbed her by the hands, raising their objections in the same moment. "Maybe you should…" "Stay here…" Lydia glanced at them in frustration, and shook her head. Didn't they understand? She had to _know_…

"One of you get help for the teacher, the other stay with her." She denied flatly, not looking the least bit intimidated by the thing in the dark. They both stared at her with wide eyes, not sure they should let someone younger than them face whatever it was that had scared the woman.

In Bertha's arms, the teacher stirred, not quite waking. "H- haunted…" She moaned, only making Lydia's resolve strengthen more. She doubted that the woman had actually seen a ghost, but that didn't mean that one hadn't made their presence known. And god, she hoped it was him…

She ran out of the room without a backwards glance, slowing only as she reached several other faculty members headed in her direction, to see what the commotion was. She plastered a clueless expression on her face, and apparently they bought it, not even slowing to question her. Lydia felt sick as she hurried on, not certain herself why she felt the deep chill of dread. She'd never been afraid of ghosts before. Why now?

_Because there shouldn't be any ghosts at this school… I would have seen them! Something's not right…_ She slowed again as she heard voices, unsettlingly familiar, and what was very out of place in an all girl's school, male. Male ghosts? Familiar male ghosts? _The delivery guys? No, Vincent got the idea, he had to… He wouldn't get them to deliver something at school!_

The voices repeated, and she stopped in her tracks, straining her brain to recognize them. No, not the delivery guys, she'd heard those voices in the Neitherworld, she was certain… They were coming closer. She crept to the corner, and peeked around, ready to bolt if she had to. What she saw turned her veins to ice.

It was the guys from the club. Mucus face, eyeball guy, and the rest of them. Damn, they must be looking for Beetlejuice… _Or me._ The thought caught the breath in her throat. No. No, they couldn't be. Could they? Snippets of information drifted to her, something about _Beetlebreath_, and _that little brat_. It really left very little doubt in her mind, and she was backing up before she knew it.

But where could she go? That she had to run was obvious, she stood no chance against one ghost with powers, however small, and there were at least five now looking for her. _Beetlejuice_? Of course, that was the ideal solution. Call him, let him deal with it. He'd gone to the Neitherworld early that morning, so calling him back should…

Should be calling him back without him asking her to, and a violation of their 'contract.'

Another way then. There had to be another way. She closed her eyes, and thought, hard. She couldn't bring him here. Could she go to him? Mirrors? Or did that only work when he was with her? She did have a visa now, so…

"Squish that kid, for making us go through all this trouble…" One of them was saying, helping her make up her mind.

As she was about to bolt though, another chimed in with, "What about Prince Vince? I heard he's got a thing for the little breather…" The words rang through Lydia's head, not making sense, and she fled from then regardless. The student bathroom… Hell if that didn't have mirrors.

This time she didn't even slow down when she saw a teacher, just yelling, "Bathroom!" And hurrying on by. It was only as she actually reached the swinging door that the words finally registered, and for an instant, she stopped in her tracks. Prince Vince? _Vincent?_ "He wasn't kidding…" She murmured, suddenly embarrassed to have laughed in his face like that.

Reality quickly returned though, and she ran through the doors, almost knocking over a girl on her way out. Shouting something in the way of apology, Lydia skidded to a stop before the large row of mirrors, necessary in an all-girl school. She looked from one to the other, like it was some kind of choice or something, and then for one wild instant, wondered if she'd even be able to find the poltergeist.

No matter. Anywhere was better than here. She picked the cleanest mirror, and laid her fingers against it, hesitant, not sure this would work. Not willing to simply throw herself against it, as Beetlejuice had done for her. Her fingers touched cold glass, and… something. An energy. Like a ghostly energy. She pressed through it carefully, and found the mirror's surface yielding.

Closing her eyes briefly, Lydia said a prayer, and then climbed onto the sink, and to the startled stare of a girl emerging from the stall behind her, fell through the mirror… Into nothing.

--

She didn't know how long she fell, mind in too much of a panic to focus, before she realized that simply waiting to land wouldn't do a damn thing. She had to think of a place to go… But she didn't know that many places in the Neitherworld. At the moment, the safest place she could think of, was…

Again, she landed with a small sound of surprise, this time directly in the middle of the Freaky Eye Scream Shop. She stood there, wavering, considering her surroundings, and wondering if she was safe or not… And only slowly began to relax. No one seemed to have noticed her unorthodox entrance… Or maybe she only thought it was unorthodox. Maybe here, this kind of popping in was normal.

_Now what_? This was the question of course, that she had no answer to. Suddenly weak kneed, she found herself instinctively stumbling to the booth she and Beej had used, and sitting down, or rather, collapsing. She took a deep shaky breath, and promptly hid her face in her hands, resting both against the smooth off-white table. What the heck? Was she this helpless? _I am so pissed at you right now, Beej_…

"Hey!" The harshly spoken word made her jerk her face up, and looked with dilated eyes at the rather peculiar looking creature addressing her, wearing what might have been a frown. "You order up front! We don't wait tables here!"

Now Lydia was at a loss for an entirely different reason… She had money, just not with her. Was this one of those places that would toss her out if she didn't buy anything? The guy before her did look sort of like a bouncer… "I- I just want to sit, for a minute." She whispered, doing her best to look pitiful, and not having to try hard. A minute. Then she'd… what?

"Sugar, are you all right?" Lydia blinked, and looked down, to see a large pink spider just about on level with the table, looking at her with wide, gentle eyes. "You don't look so good… Here, let her sit there, I'll buy her a soda, okay mister?" The guy grunted, and backed off, apparently satisfied. The spider looked up at her with a beaming smile that reminded her oddly of Bertha… Only with better teeth. "You wait right here hon, okay?"

"Okay." Lydia's answer was barely a breath, and then she sighed, and watched her new friend walk up to the empty counter. She hoped she'd buy something suitable for the living… But at this point, she wasn't about to complain. An odd line drifted across her mind, she wasn't even sure from where. _I've always depended on the kindness of strangers…_

Her face wrinkled up, and she pushed that away, bad southern accent and all. She was still sitting there, chin resting on the back of her wrist, when the spider, which was hairy, strange, and somehow quite elegant, came back up to the table with precise movement in every step. She'd always admired that about spiders.

"Here you are sugar, just the thing to calm your nerves." And then, not leaving it at that, she climbed right up, rather gracefully, into the booth beside her. "Now why don't you tell ol' Ginger what has you in such a fuddle?" Her voice dropped a little, and she added, "Are you a newcomer, by any chance? 'Cause honey, we were all there once… Well, almost all."

Remembering what Vincent had said about never being among the living, she supposed Ginger was right. "I'm not a newcomer, exactly." She denied softly, considering how best to say this. Taking a sip of her drink, which was rather gingery, and she did wonder if that was on purpose, she reached out, and put her hand lightly over the spider's… er, hand. Ginger jumped, looking surprised. "See, I'm not from around here."

"You're telling me, hon!" She looked surprised, and worried. "You know, you could get in a lot of trouble for something like that…"

"I have permission." Lydia denied softly, making Ginger look at her oddly. Interestingly enough though, she didn't question it. Maybe she thought she was lying, and didn't want to call her on it. "But I am in trouble. See, a friend of mine made these enemies, or something, and now they're after me…" She didn't know why she was telling Ginger this, not certain what the pink spider could do to help, but as it was, she was lost without a map.

She told Ginger what she could of it, even saying Beetlejuice's name, though just once, and in a low voice, as if this somehow negated the effects. The girl, Lydia decided to think of her this way, rather than as a spider, the girl's face became very serious as she listened, propping her own chin up on two of her hands, and regarding Lydia evenly.

"Lydia," She said at last, quietly, "I don't know if I can help you against something like that… But I am willing to help you find this Beetlejuice that's causing the trouble." Lydia's face washed with relief, as she continued, tapping lightly against the table. "Course, I've heard of him, mind you. Who hasn't? But I don't know why you'd want to get mixed up with a ghost like him… 'Spose it don't matter though, does it?" Lydia shook her head, and Ginger sighed. "Well, finish your soda, and we'll get going…"

"I don't know how to thank you." Lydia whispered, after taking another deep drink. "I'm not really the kind of girl that goes asking for help…"

"Oh, but we're _friends,_ hon!" The spider argued earnestly, making her look at her in surprise, and then slowly, smile. "That's a doll, you just keep smiling, we're gonna find this friend of yours, and work everything out, you'll-"

It really couldn't be called anything but bad timing, another five minutes and they would have been out of there. But Ginger didn't even make it past her reassurances, before a heavy hand settled on her shoulder, and she looked up in surprise to see eyeball guy gazing at her grimly. "Don't know much about the way mirrors work yet, do you?" He asked quietly.

Lydia looked past him to see the rest of the goons, looking no more out of place here than anywhere else, and none of them pleased with the little chase she'd led them on. She turned her eyes back up to him, tensing, ready to fight anyway, even if she had no chance. She'd tried running already, and heck if she was just going to go quietly…

One of the others saw this, and smiled. It was really a rather intimidating smile. "Take a look around you, breather." He murmured slowly, making her unconsciously do just this. "Lot of innocent people in a place like this… Lot of kids. We don't want anybody to get hurt, right?"

It was stupid. Because of someone else, she'd been hunted down. Because of someone else, she couldn't even fight. And Ginger, she could only watch, horrified, as they led the living girl away, into a world never meant for her.

--


	11. Priorities

Beetlejuice… Will you be mine? May I possess you, heart, body and soul, rights and legalities? No? Well, it seems that I still don't own Beetlejuice… Too bad. Probably don't own Lydia either…

--

Okay, here's the deal. I want this to be thirteen chapters, but I can really only think of one more, which would make it twelve. I'm not satisfied with that. So now I'm left with coming up with an extra chapter... Shouldn't be too hard, I hope. I just don't want it to feel bolted in there, you know? Franken-story. Anyway, hope you enjoy this chapter... And the next. The one after that should be fine. I think. Goodness, I hope this story made some kind of sense to someone other than me... It had a beginning, it'll have an end, and if it gets fuzzy in the middle... Well, it does have kind of a climax. Oh well.

--

Once a person was dead, they generally established a pattern, and more or less stuck to it. Shopping at the same stores, visiting the same clubs, and hanging around the same people. Apparently however, Beetlejuice was a ghost who got bored easily, and aside from the living girl she'd met earlier, no one in their right mind was willing to admit hanging around with him.

Therefore, by the time night fell, Ginger had checked at over two dozen different seedy bars and nightclubs, and had the distinct sense of needing a bath. She also had far too good of an idea, the kind of ghost she was looking for, and had serious doubts about whether the poltergeist was even going to lift a finger either way. But Lydia was just a kid… And one way out of her element.

Rapping at the door of the Blighted Crone, Ginger waited until the door opened, and ventured a smile at the guy keeping it. Almost instantly, it was shut in her face again. Sighing, Ginger checked her pockets to see if she had any money left, only to find herself down to her last ten. Too many bribes, and not enough entertaining gigs of late.

She knocked at the door again, and again the same guy opened it, and then went to shut it again, when she waved the ten in front of him. He frowned, weighing his options visibly, then nodded, waving her in.

As he would have grabbed the money however, she pulled it back, just a little, and plastered her sweetest smile on her face. "Would you be a hon, and tell me if a guy named Beetlejuice is here?" She prompted, praying to whatever gods she hadn't given up on, that this would be the last place she had to look.

The man, and she thought of him this way only roughly, narrowed his eyes at her. For a moment, she had the distinct fear of being stepped on, as this guy was certainly big enough to, but she just continued with her wide, endearing smile, trying to make him feel like he was about to kick a puppy, if he lifted a hand against her. On the other hand, he might very well make a habit of kicking puppies for fun…

With a grunt, he finally snatched the bill from her, and she thought that was that, before he hooked his thumb over his shoulder, and gestured towards the bar at the back. "Idiot in the striped suit." Was all he said, but it made Ginger's heart sing. He was here! And this… Well, this was all she could do for the kid. After this, she was out of options.

Beetlejuice was having a good night, and it already promised to get better. Much better. The slender thing at his side would have been rather average looking in life, bordering on plain, but her features were completely unchanged by death, and that made her the best looking thing in the place.

He'd already plied her with drink after drink, going through two bottles of fifty year old scotch to impress her, and it had worked. She, like him, had a taste for living world stuff, and whether or not it could get her drunk, it was beginning to get her in the right mood. "A guy like you has to have serious connections…" She purred, well aware how good she looked to him, and radiating sheer confidence… Which was in itself, decidedly sexy. Her hand was rubbing his thigh, and he was grinning like anything. This was going to be fun.

"Excuse me, Mr. Beetlejuice?" At first the words were so decidedly out of place that his smile faltered, and for an instant, he imagined that one of Lydia's friends had just called him 'Mr. Beetleman.' He turned his gaze to the side, to see a rather attractive, leggy sort, if far too clean-cut to be in a place like this. "I been looking for you all night!" She exclaimed, sounding desperate. "I didn't know what I'd do, if I didn't find you!"

Beetlejuice's grin slowly returned… Damn he was popular tonight. "Sorry, legs," He declined, turning back to his present conquest, "I appreciate the effort, but right now I'm working on another offer." His 'date' had begun to look considerably peeved when he paid even a glance to the newcomer, but at his dismissal, she positively preened. "So like I was saying, doll… You, me, a broken down old roadhouse-"

"But it's about Lydia!" The spider wailed, making him stop in mid-sentence, turn the words over in his head, and then consider her again, this time with a frown. How did this dame know her?

"Lyds?" He echoed softly, irritated with the timing, but vaguely uneasy over what had the broad so upset. "What about her?" When the woman behind him started to protest losing his attention, tracing her fingers down his arm, he shrugged her off, if not without some difficulty. "Hang on, doll." He snapped, absently. "I'm trying to find out about Lyds."

"They took her!" The spider yelled, apparently beginning to lose her patience. "She's in big trouble, and it's all your fault! They took her 'cause they couldn't find you!"

"BJ… What do you care about some other girl…?" His date was whining, trying to pull on him more now. "What about you, and me, and a broken down old roadhouse…? Come on BJ…"

But anger had begun building in him from the moment the strange girl started talking, saying Lydia was in trouble. It surprised him a bit, how mad it got him. And her whining was just a little too much to handle. "Will you SHUT THE HELL UP?" He roared at her, making the girl's eyes widen in shock and offense. "I'm trying to find out WHAT THE HELL'S GOING ON HERE!"

Furious herself, the woman yanked herself out of her seat, and stormed off, giving him just a moment to reflect on his hastiness in sending her away. That however, lasted just that, a moment, and then he was turning back to his new informant. "Who's got Lyds?" He hissed, eyes no longer amused, but glinting with danger and power. "Where the hell did they take her?"

Ginger was a little surprised at the transformation in the poltergeist, and more than a little intimidated. Unfortunately, she didn't have the answers he was looking for… The best she could do was describe the men, one by one. Beetlejuice's eyes grew darker, more serious. She began to get the idea that he was really not a good guy to cross.

"…And I don't know _where_ they took her!" Ginger admitted, still distraught over it, and worried for her living friend. "She was gonna try to get away, but she was scared of someone else getting hurt!"

Beetlejuice took a slow, deep breath, narrowing his eyes. It was good she hadn't fought. He knew what these guys were capable of. However, they seemed not to realize what he _himself_ was capable of, if they'd pulled some shit like this. He may play the fool from time to time, but he was anything but harmless.

Earlier that day, he'd thought he felt the girl say his name, just once. He figured she'd slipped, but no, she must have been talking to this chick about him. And now the sensible thing for her to do would be to call him… Three times, and he'd be with her. But of course, because of her 'curse,' she wasn't going to risk that. He swore to himself silently over that one.

But the deal also meant that there was a strong binding between them, some of his power in her, and hell if he wouldn't be able to find it. He was going to find them, get Lydia, and then… Then he was going to make it clear that his friends were not toys. Their first mistake was underestimating him, their second mistake was letting him find out about it, but the real mistake they'd made, the one they'd pay for, was trying to use the kid as a bargaining chip against him.

"Three strikes," He muttered to himself, his voice thick with fury, "You're out." And then he left Ginger there, staring at the place where he'd been, a little frightened herself, as his last words drifted through the air with a tangible warning…

"It's show-time."

--

Lydia would never have guessed that a person could become this cold, without suffering some sort of permanent damage. Dying, say. But without her poncho to keep her warm, the heat was just sucked out of her, little by little, until her own breath no longer even gave off those little poofs of warmth. Her skin, now a light lavender color, had stopped trembling over an hour before.

She'd never been in the Neitherworld's unique version of cold for this long before. The truly scary thing was, she was beginning to get used to it. Her eyes, somewhat fogged up by this point, or else frozen over, tracked the movements of the men who'd captured her, for now content with playing dice. Craps, she figured. Certainly she was beginning to hate the sound they made.

The only part of her that was still warm, was her anger… That burned through her like anything, but most likely, that didn't even qualify. But whether she was more angry at these guys for grabbing her, or Beetlejuice, for both getting her into this mess, and not yet saving her, was pretty much up for grabs.

She finally decided she had to say something, anything, to keep from going crazy. "You wanna deal me in, next game?" She challenged, making at least two of the guys turn, and consider her with dubious eyes. "Come on, I'm feeling lucky!"

A hoarse laugh answered her, as several of the thugs seemed to find this amusing, but at least one of them, the thick-headed mucus formed creature, seemed to find her spurt of courage annoying, and got to his feet, giving her a long, warning look. "Better keep your mouth shut, breather." He warned, in that utterly disgusting, flemmy voice he had, slurping and sickening. "Or we'll see just how lucky you feel!"

A thrill of fear traced down her spine, almost lost in the cold that already consumed her. But Lydia was never one to let common sense stop her, when she had something she wanted to say. So she just bared her teeth at him in a smile, tilted her head to let her hair fall over one eye, and purred, "Beej is gonna kick your ass, you know that, right?" Of course, she really had no idea herself whether this was true… But it felt good, assuming it was.

Not to mention seeing the guy's face slowly turn an interesting shade of crimson, which altogether didn't seem possible, on his sickly yellow skin. He continued walking right up to her, trying to intimidate her in her position chained to the floor, but she just continued smiling, right through when he leaned down, considering her frozen eye to melting eye. "You so sure about that?" He growled, a sound like popping swamp water. "Why ain't you tried to call him yet, then?"

It was of course, a completely idiotic thing to follow such a question with, but Lydia just shrugged, and said in her calmest voice possible, "I'm on hold. He's a busy guy."

_Crack!_ The creature's hand collided with her face, hard enough for even her numb skin to sting and flare in pain, though this wasn't what she really noticed about it. Instead, that was the mouthful of absolutely sickening stuff that managed to seep between her lips at the blow…

Doing her best not to throw up, she simply spat to the side, and turned her eyes back to him, still gleaming with challenge. "That was seriously gross." She informed him, in no uncertain terms. "Would you mind keeping your snot to yourself, from now on?"

Laughter rose up from him companions, and of course only served to make him angrier… Apparently his own grossness was something of a sore spot. "You smart-mouthed little bitch," He snarled, eyes burning in the folds of his face, "I'm gonna teach you to respect your betters…" His hand reached back again, and she braced herself for another blow.

"Now," A voice suddenly emerged from the darkness, so heart-stoppingly familiar that she almost fainted then and there from relief, "How the hell are _you_ gonna teach her to respect her betters, when you sure as _hell_ don't qualify?"

With this, Beetlejuice walked slowly into tangibility, considering them all there with a smile that, personally, made her want to wilt. The ghost was pissed. Seriously, _seriously,_ pissed. "Besides," He went on lightly, "I _like _that smart mouth of hers. Keeps me on my toes." And then, almost in a 'by the way,' he noted to Lyds herself, "You really ain't scared of shit, are you?"

"Of course I am," She denied weakly, smiling through the joke, "But why let these losers know that?" Beetlejuice just barked with laughter, briefly, before his face suddenly went very serious again. It was a chilling change to watch.

"I'm gonna have to ask you to close your eyes, Lyds." He said slowly, with a decidedly soft menace. "I really don't want you to have to see what I'm about to do to these chumps." Saying this, he cracked his knuckles, and started forward. Lydia of course, didn't take her eyes off him for a second.

"Beetle-scum…" One of the guys muttered, starting forward with what looked like a length of chain in his hand, "You really think you're gonna-"

"Hold on, buddy." Beetlejuice growled, making the creature stop abruptly in his tracks, frozen in place, with no clear indication what was holding him there. "I gotta talk to Mr. Charming here, first." And not one made a move as he turned back to the monster who'd struck her, a rather frightening look on his face. "Hey, buddy," He prompted quietly, "Don't suppose you know if that stuff you're covered in is flammable, do you?"

As the flem creature paused, unsure what he was driving at, Beetlejuice pulled a small canister from his pocket, marked 'kerosene.' "Just wondering," He went on casually, "'Cause it sure as hell is now."

The thug ran a slow hand over his face, drawing it away wet, wetter than usual, and she swore, he paled. Beetlejuice in turn, didn't so much as strike a match, just snapping his fingers, and interring his opponent in a topless steel box, which suddenly roared with fire out from every seam, as the smell of something like burning rubber spilled through the air, along with the most flesh crawling screams she'd ever heard.

"One down," Beetlejuice noted calmly, just as if there weren't still inhuman shrieks erupting from behind him, "Who's next?" No one before him moved.

Lydia, still not having closed her eyes yet, not that it would have spared her from a damn thing, just continued to watch with wide, rather horrified eyes. "Are you gonna kill them, Beej?" She asked slowly, frightened of the poltergeist for the first time since she'd met him.

He dismissed this absently. "They're already dead, babes. And it would take too much trouble to kill them again. I'm just gonna impress on 'em… To stay the hell away from what's mine."

_What's his… _Lydia sighed, and relaxed a little, feeling suddenly saved, even though she was still shackled to the wall, and half lying on the cold stone floor, slowly turning blue. She watched without a word as he dealt with the others, one by one, without any apparent effort, until there was a collection of broken goons scattered across the room, sometimes in multiple pieces. She saved the precise details of it for her nightmares, and swore to herself never to willingly reflect on what he'd done, to herself or anyone.

Only when he'd exhausted every means to make his point, and the two of them were the only ones left conscious in the room, did Beetlejuice finally sigh, looking his first trace of annoyed, and kneel down before her. With as little effort as he'd done anything else, he snapped the chains holding her down, and scooped her up in his arms, like some fragile doll, or a child many years her junior.

"If you knew what I went through to get you back, kid…" He muttered to himself, their surroundings blurring, and in the next minute, gone, to be replaced by the more reassuring sights of the Neitherworld outside, and its oddly comforting sky. "I gave up getting laid for you, you know."

"I appreciate it," She muttered dryly, turning her face into his coat, "God, Beej, I think I'm dying here…"

He made a rude sound. "Told you before kid, cold can't kill you here, it's just cold." When he tried to put her back on her feet though, he quickly found her incapable of holding herself up, and finally had to support her with one hand, looking at her in annoyance. "So what, you gonna die for real, if I take you back like this?" He demanded, irritated.

Lydia just grinned, as well as she was able. "Maybe." She affirmed, making him sigh, and reach back to pull off his own coat, before sliding it over her shoulders. She immediately felt better. While it wasn't as warm as the poncho, it did halt the sense that everything around her was doing its best to suck every drop of heat left out of her, and for that she was grateful.

"You need to wash this thing." She noted, in a sort of aside, as he lifted her back into his arms, and started carrying her again. "It smells like dirt." The events of the night were only now beginning to wash over her, but doggedly she pushed them aside, refusing to fall apart before her rescuer. Later maybe, when it was just her, but not now.

"Happens when you're buried in something awhile." He noted, a sort of low grumble under his breath. "By the way, not that I care, but you might want to thank legs, when you see her again. Dame had to spend half the day looking for me."

"Legs?" Lydia echoed, puzzled, before understanding dawned. "Ginger? You mean she's the reason you found me?" She was astonished that someone she'd known for such a short length of time, would go through such trouble for her.

"Nah, I'm the reason I found you," He pointed out, looking irked, "Next time, just call my damn name, would you? Look, you got permission," He added, when she was about to protest, "Whenever you're in trouble, just call for me, and I'll save your ass. Not that I know why…" As he spoke, the tingle of cold in her chest changed, just a little, and she knew he was serious.

It was, quite honestly, a great weight off her shoulders. A breath of relief escaped her, and she pulled herself up in his arms a little, dropping her head against his shoulder. "You're a pretty scary guy, when you're angry, Beej." She noted, suddenly feeling safe, protected, and oddly secure. He did smell like mold, but at the moment, she wasn't about to complain.

"I'm scary all the time, babes. You're just too enthralled with me to see it." He was grinning now, even if the expression formed slowly. "Can't say I blame you, I am pretty damn awesome… So how the hell'd you get to the Neitherworld anyway? Shouldn't be able to use mirrors yet by yourself, 'til you get the hang of it…"

"Well, I did." She informed him smugly, deciding that enough feeling had returned to her legs to stand, and in the same moment, that she liked it perfectly well where she was. "The ones at the school…" She broke off as he stopped in his tracks, squinting at her. "What?"

"You gotta go out the way you came in." He informed her enigmatically. It took her a moment to understand what he was saying, but then she turned her gaze to the Neitherworld sky, dark, and steadily growing darker. She said a word that, again, she never used to say before she'd met him, and he laughed, walking again. "Gonna be an interesting night…"

"I am going to be in so much trouble!" She suddenly exploded, hitting him in the chest with her fist, making him grunt and look at her sideways. "This is all your fault, you- you-"

Beetlejuice just snorted, and deciding he was done carrying her, dropped her to the sidewalk, rather unceremoniously. Lydia yelped in surprise, caught her balance, and hit him again for good measure. "I could have gotten killed! What would I have done, if you hadn't come?" Her voice was breaking, even if no tears were yet evident. "Damn it, Beetlejuice…"

He made a small clucking sound with his tongue. "That's one." He noted, matter-of-factly, before considering the girl before him, a kid barely up to his chest, her face screwed up as she did her best not to cry. "Ah, hell babes, you really think I'd let those losers hurt you?" He shifted uncomfortably, forcing a grin. "We're buds, you and me. No one messes with my Lyds!"

This had the unexpected effect of actually calming her down, and he watched with a bit of befuddlement as she took a deep breath, ran her fingers through her hair, and nodded. To all appearances, simply no longer upset. "Yeah Beej," She agreed softly, and at least to him, somewhat surprisingly, "I know."

She knew? It was his turn to twist his mouth up, baffled as to why the kid would be dumb enough to take him at his word. Never mind that he intended to keep it… For once. "Babes, you really are a shitty judge of character." He noted at length, again a sort of grumble under his breath. But Lydia just smiled like the sunrise, making him roll his eyes.

What the hell was this breather doing to him…?

--

Whatever else negative she might say about the living world, Connecticut in Mid-October, even in the dead of night, was still a hell of a lot warmer than the neitherworld. Or at least, a more tolerable kind of cold. One that didn't snatch the heat right from her lips, the way air there did.

Beetlejuice was walking her home, looking disgruntled, wearing the clothes he always wore when he didn't want to be recognized in stripes. This meant that she too had changed her coat, and found the longer duster, if somewhat more grimy, also infinitely more warm. She didn't know herself why he suddenly seemed in such a foul mood, but from the glances he kept casting her way, before falling into soft cursing, it had something to do with her.

Regardless, she was willing to leave it alone, figuring that as usual, he didn't want to admit that he gave a damn about her. So while she was the subject of many glances on his part, she did her best to look anywhere else… The night sky, the alleyways, the occasional passing car. And most of all, she pretended not to notice his bad mood, in any way.

Finally tiring of her not rising to his bait, he fell silent, and the mood between them, while not exactly improving, certainly became a bit more accepting. This of course, was Lydia's cue to prod at him a bit. "Was she pretty?" She prompted, simply assuming he would instantly know what she was talking about. Beetlejuice though, just cast her a sideways glance, making a little sound of question. "The girl you lost your chance with," She pressed slowly, smiling, "Was she pretty?"

Beetlejuice eyed her scornfully, well aware she was trying to goad him, and finally gave a short, noncommittal sound. "I seen better." Was all he said to that, lips twisted in what was still, unmistakably, regret. "Doesn't matter with the lights out, does it?" And he gave her his best leer, the look falling short only when he remembered she was still a kid. "Eh, never mind…"

She grinned anyway, well aware that her friend was a lecherous pervert, and about as charming as a rutting pig. "You were probably too good for her anyway." She assured him, shrugging deeper into her coat, and as a consequence of the dust this stirred up, sneezing. "Damn, my nose itches," She muttered crossly, "You know, it wouldn't kill you-"

"Not much would." He agreed, cutting her off easily with a solid knock to her shoulder. Lydia stumbled, recovered her balance, and glared at him. All that did though, was make him grin wider. "Babes, don't mess with a good thing. I ain't changing for nobody."

"Even your clothes?" She asked dryly, only to be cut off by a sharp, sudden sound to the side, of metal against stone. She jumped, making a little hissing sound of surprise, and before Beetlejuice could stop her, stepped forward again, peering down the alley to discover the source of the sound.

"Babes…" Beetlejuice growled in annoyance, starting to pull her back, only to stop as a black and white ball of fury exploded from the alley, launching itself directly at the girl in question. "Shit!" He yelled, yanking her out of the way, only to find himself the new object of the insane creature's attack. "Get off me, you fucking-!"

Before he could throw the wad of fur back down the alley, Lydia was yanking the deranged thing from his arms, tucking it down amid the folds of her coat, and crooning to the beast in the softest voice he'd ever heard her use. "Oh, you poor thing!" He'd heard harsher voices used in lullaby from new mothers! "You're so skinny! Aw, did that bad old poltergeist scare you…?"

Beetlejuice glared at the beast, a cat to all appearances, with an oddly banded black and white tail, and a starkly white face. "Put the damn thing down," He muttered, examining the scratches on his exposed forearms, "You're gonna get fleas all over my coat!"

The girl of course, paid absolutely no attention to him. "I wonder if my parents will let me keep him?" She asked, a completely unnecessary ring of happiness to her words, in his opinion. "I've always wanted a cat… Look, he's black and white, like you!" He peered at the cat, who peered back with wild green eyes, and hissed. He seemed quite comfortable in Lydia's arms, however…

"Yeah, great…" Beetlejuice muttered, pulling his hat down over his eyes. "She's got no problem bringing some flea bitten alley cat to her house, but me? The guy who just saved her life? Nah, I gotta stay outta sight, or her moms will beat me over the head with the furniture, and chuck me on my ass…"

Lydia rolled her eyes, before reaching out suddenly, and grasping the poltergeist's grimy hand in her own. He started a little, looking down at her in surprise, only to find her positively beaming at him, eyes dancing with more life than he'd ever seen in anyone else. "If she sent you away," She informed him matter-of-factly, "You know I'd miss you a hell of a lot more than you'd miss me."

This left him without any real idea what to say, so he just frowned, shifted a little, and considered yanking his hand away. "Yeah, well…" He muttered, not wanting to admit that he'd probably miss her just as much. "Whatever."

A flash of red and blue lights a moment later made Lydia yank her hand away instead, leaving his suddenly feeling oddly empty. Grimacing, he ignored this, and turned to the source of the disturbance, to see a cop car pulling up alongside them, a youthful looking face gazing dubiously out. "Lydia Deetz?" The officer asked slowly, making sure he had this right.

"Deputy Garin?" Lydia echoed, in exactly the same tone. She looked dubious, and a bit irritated. Of all the cops who could've have found her, it had to be the one who knew her by sight.

"What are you doing out this late?" The deputy asked, a little more firmly this time, turning his flashlight to Beetlejuice's face. The ghost grimaced, and blocked the strong light, clearly ready to bolt. "And who's this? Friend of the family?"

"Can't remember his name," Lydia lied, straight-faced, "He's the janitor at our school. I fell asleep in an empty classroom, and when I woke up, I was locked in." Beetlejuice was amazed at how quickly she was coming up with this lie, and considered her admiringly. "He said I shouldn't walk home alone… Even loaned me his coat." She gave a little shiver now, and he was certain it wasn't feigned. "I'm still freezing though."

Garin considered them both for a long moment, while Beetlejuice made no attempt at all to look innocent, certain it would only make him appear all the more suspicious. "Yeah," He said at last, still sounding dubious, "Well why don't I give you a ride the rest of the way. I was heading that way anyway… Something about a missing daughter. Again."

For a moment, Lydia just considered him, then shrugged, pulling off Beetlejuice's coat. "Here," She said easily, handing it back to him, while keeping a firm grip on her new pet, "Thanks for walking me. Sorry about the mess."

For just a moment, he was still turning this over, even while his mouth muttered, "That's my job, kid." She was still playing the janitor bit, huh? He could do that. But his expertise was really more in the making messes business… He didn't remember the last time he'd actually cleaned something.

"I can bring Loki, right?" Lydia pressed, lifting the ball of angry, hissing fur, glaring out with wild eyes. "I can't leave him, he looks like he hasn't eaten in days!"

"Loki?" Deputy Garin echoed, considering the stray with a frown.

"I have a thing for trouble-makers." Lydia said, absolutely straight-faced. Beetlejuice just about pissed himself with laughter, just turning and walking away as quickly as he could instead. Lydia glanced at him, from the corner of her eyes, but still gave no real show of recognition. "If anyone at school found out that I was walked home by the janitor, I'd never hear the end of it." She muttered, pretending she was embarrassed.

Deputy Garin just sighed, propping the door open for her, and giving her a wearied look. "Just get in, both of you. I think you've a got a heck of a lot more to worry about, than your reputation, kid." Lydia got in obediently, already wondering where the poltergeist had gotten off to. "Your parents are going to kill you."

Lydia shrugged, looking amused. "I wish." She muttered, more to herself. Death would be easy, compared to what her parents had in store… And that was if they didn't find out what she'd been up to all day. Sooner or later, she supposed they would.

But hell, she'd burn that bridge when she came to it.

--


	12. What Passes For Normal

Beetlejuice… Will you be mine? May I possess you, heart, body and soul, rights and legalities? No? Well, it seems that I still don't own Beetlejuice… Too bad. Probably don't own Lydia either…

--

Hmm, a little shorter, but we are winding down. Next comes the epilogue... Don't worry, I don't think the concept will end with it. As the story closes after all, it will be almost Halloween... There, and here. Now, come on, am I going to pass up an opportunity like that? It's perfect for a little one-shot...

--

"Pst. Pst. Pst." Lydia wiggled her fingers enticingly at the demonic looking thing under the bed, trying to coax him out of hiding. "Come on, Loki… I'm home from school now. See? I didn't abandon you. Come get this yummy food…"

It all felt so anticlimactic. Just the day before, she'd spent hours, freezing in the world of the dead, fearing for her life, and waiting for a raunchy poltergeist to save her ass. Then she'd watched her kidnappers beaten to within an inch of their afterlives. Then she'd been driven home by a cop, met by her parents, and grounded… Again.

But she'd gotten to keep the cat. Who knew, maybe her parents actually believed her little story. Maybe they believed the responsibility would be good for her. Either which way, she was confined to her room until further notice, which really didn't put any kinks in her plans anyway, since she could leave by mirror whenever she wanted. For now though, it was probably best if she stayed put. Especially if she wanted to sneak out on Friday.

_Their parents are right,_ she mused glumly, reflecting on what Bertha and Prudence had told her a few days before, _I am a bad influence_. She scooped Loki up with a sigh, and sat on the edge of her bed, forehead wrinkled in thought. Of course, she could always say that it was actually Beetlejuice who was the bad influence… But that would suggest that she had no will of her own, and just let him run rampant over her. And as nice as it would have been, to be able to say that this was the case, it simply wasn't true.

Scratching Loki under the chin rewarded her with a murderous glare, and a rumble under her fingertips, but oddly, he seemed to be enjoying it. With a smirk, she set him in front of his food dish, and instantly of course, she no longer existed in the huge cat's world. Chicken and liver however, did.

She needed to get a hold of Ginger, thank her for all the trouble she'd went to. Beetlejuice had said she'd searched all day… Since she couldn't imagine that it had taken him long to find her, that didn't seem like an exaggeration. She'd been there for several hours, after all. That much effort, for someone she'd known five minutes? Ginger had called her a friend, and now, Lydia really wanted that to be true.

So for most of the day, she'd been turning over in her head how to get a hold of the girl, and finally came to the conclusion that it had to be the mirror. Vincent had managed to reach her that way, it only went to figure that she could do it too.

Leaving Loki where he was, she approached the mirror with a bit of wariness, remembering Beetlejuice's habit of suddenly popping up in front of it. For the first time, she wondered if the mirror itself was why. Maybe it made travel easier or something. Hopefully it worked the same way with finding people.

Reaching out hesitantly, she rapped against the mirror's surface with two knuckles. "Ginger?" When this produced no response, she fanned her fingers across the smooth surface instead, cleared her throat, and focused on the ghostly energy of it, before trying again. "Ginger? Can you hear me?" She pictured the pink spider in as much detail as possible, figuring that maybe this was how such things worked. "It's me, Lydia."

"Lydia?" The familiar dulcet tones washed relief over her, and a moment later, Ginger's face appeared in the mirror, delicate and soft pink. "Oh hon, it is really you? You're all right?" Her arms were stretched out to either side of her frame, and she seemed to be trying to steady it. "I just knew Beetlejuice would find you…"

"Shh!" Lydia cautioned quickly, though she was still smiling. "If anybody here hears that name, I am in so much trouble!" Ginger looked puzzled, and the goth girl decided she'd rather not have her new friend dwell on it for too long. "Oh Ginger," She hurried on instead, "I owe you so big…"

Incredibly, the already rosy cheeked ghost seemed to do her level best to blush. "Don't be silly!" She said again, a light little laugh falling with the words, "We're friends, hon! I'm just glad you're okay…" Saying this though, a slight shudder traced her frame, as she added, "I've got to say though, that friend of yours is a lot scarier than I thought he'd be! I've heard all kinds of bad things about him, mind you, but to see him so angry?"

Lydia in fact, still loved that he'd gotten so angry over her. "Yeah, I know." She agreed, a bit smugly. "We're buds, him and me." Why not use the poltergeist's own words? "Anyway, I thought you might still be worried, and I didn't know how to get a hold of you… I don't really know anything about you, I mean, and after you did so much, I had to tell you I was all right."

The pretty spider smiled, waving this away with one delicately haired limb. "Well, I don't have to worry any more, do I? Besides, I heard what happened on the news. I figured Beetle-"

"Ginger?" Lydia interrupted, putting on her best pleading face.

"Right, right hon, sorry." Ginger chuckled. "I'm surprised you want anyone to know you hang out with a ghost like him. Anyway, I figured he'd gone and cleaned up that mess he made… Not that they're saying who did it, mind you." And here, her features grew just a little bit strained, "In fact, the police think it was a whole bunch of guys… But it wasn't, was it?"

"He's the ghost with the most." Lydia whispered appreciatively, resting her chin on her wrists. "But if it's all the same to you, that's one demonstration of his powers, I'd just as soon forget."

An uncomfortable silence passed between them after this, and at last Lydia decided that it really was her job to break it. "So what are you getting all dolled up for?" She prompted, eyeing the smooth lines of make-up, satin blouse, and tiny pink hat. "Out for a night on the town?"

"Oh, heavens no, hon!" Ginger laughed, batting wide soft eyes at the goth girl. "I'm getting ready to perform, Lydia! I have to be on stage in ten minutes!"

"Perform?" Lydia sat up a little, curious. "What do you do, sing?"

"Sing? Oh no, hon… I dance!" Ginger exclaimed, rather proudly. Lydia was forced to swallow the sound of amazement, or possibly laughter, that rose up in her throat at this. The other girl spread her hands out, eyes sparkling, like she was reading her name up in lights. "Ginger, the Tap-Dancing Spider! Don't tell me you haven't heard of me, doll!"

"Sorry," Lydia murmured, with surprising evenness, "I'm still pretty new to the Neitherworld." A moment's thought, and she added, "It must be hard, tap dancing with all those legs… I mean, I couldn't do it with two."

"I'll have to give you lessons sometime!" Ginger winked. Suddenly she startled, looking off to the side, and murmured anxiously. "Uh-oh, boss is coming… I gotta go, sweetheart! You stay in touch, okay?" And with that, she blew Lydia a kiss, before vanishing altogether.

"I have _got_ to see her dance sometime…" Lydia murmured to herself, finally drawing away from the mirror. She felt better, now that Ginger knew she was safe. Though of course, safe was a rather subjective term… But she knew she still owed her. Big.

But for now, it was time to do her homework on her beautiful new desk, and do her best to stay out of any kind of trouble at all, for the next few days. Everyone had bought her lie, more or less, except maybe Prudence and Bertha, who were still upset with her. That would pass though, she was sure.

Someday, she'd probably get caught. She knew that. For now though? She was succeeding in living two lives… And she was going to keep doing it, as long as she could.

--

The kid wasn't even paying attention to him… Beetlejuice eyed her through her window, as she swept her poncho up in both hands, smiling at it with admiration, before folding it neatly, and tucking it into the secret drawer she'd discovered in her desk. Still she didn't look out at him in the tree, resting lazily along a thick bough. It kind of disappointed him. Sure, he was invisible, but he expected better from her than that.

He'd listened to the whole exchange with Ginger… Really hadn't taken his eyes off her since she got home, kind of hoping they could go stir up some trouble in town. Either town, he didn't really care which one.

But no, she turned away from her mirror, lightly touching the ace of spades she'd stolen from him, now tucked neatly in the rich wooden frame, and reached for her books. He made a face. Homework. And here he'd thought he was starting to have some kind of influence on her…

Bored, he propped his head back, and regarded the sky, thick with clouds and promising a storm. He blew smoke at it mockingly. Like he gave a damn about a little rain.

It didn't make sense, and he had no problem accepting that. Someone like him, and someone like her… Olivia's brat, for god's sake. Only he really didn't think of her that way anymore. She was her own entity, a force to be reckoned with in her own right. By comparison, she made the older goth broad look tame. And apparently, she had no problem keeping up with him. Hell if he'd seen that coming.

She could make up a lie on the spot, tell it with a straight face, and never look back. At the same time, she was doggedly devoted to her friends, faced any kind of situation without a trace of fear, broke the rules and defied common sense… She was perhaps, the only one with any hope of getting in more trouble than him, or at least helping him do it.

And he ate it up. Grinning, he shook his head, reflecting that if whatever forces in the world had sat down, talked it over, and tried to come up with someone to be a perfect match for him, they couldn't have done better. Damn shame she was just a kid, or he'd _be_ out.

"Soul mates…" He snorted to himself, "What the fuck ever." He ground out the cigarette on his boot, and paused, turning his head as someone emerged from the house, their voice deliberately held in whisper. "Hmm."

Drifting down a little, he observed Olivia in hushed conversation with her husband, admiring for a moment, the very nice view he was getting down the front of her dress. It distracted him so much in fact, that he didn't immediately hear what she was saying.

"…believe it's gone!" She hissed, eyes darting frantically back and forth, that little sense that she was being watched, screaming in her ears. He remembered idly when her husband had almost called him back, looking for Lydia, somewhat out of the blue. The guy had the same look on his face, he'd have figured him for having then. "The dress is still there, and I remember, I tied the ring up in the sash…"

Beetlejuice just about choked laughing, but swallowed his guffaws down gamely, and just settled for a positively macabre smile. She'd been looking for his ring? _Look around your kid's neck_… He thought giddily, suddenly enjoying his friendship with the goth girl on a whole other level. Just the fact that she didn't know, that Lyds and him could hang out all the time, putting thorn after thorn in her unwitting ass, suddenly amused him to no end.

"Maybe that's why he came back." The guy was saying. What was his name again? Ah, forget it. "Now that he's got his ring, now that he's seen you're out of reach… Maybe he'll leave you alone."

A long pause followed this, and he could tell that Olivia really want to believe him. He could also tell she wasn't buying it that easily. "Then why didn't he take the dress too?" She asked softly, an odd note of challenge entering her voice now. "Edmond… You don't know him." Like she did? "He's not going to stop at anything to get what he wants!"

Huh, maybe she did know him. Beetlejuice snorted, and kicked his feet back in midair, watching the discussion ebb and sway, grow to heated tones, and then fall nearly silent again. He wondered why they were having the conversation out here, and cutting out the Maitland chumps. Sure as hell they'd have a few things to say about him…

"All your life," Her husband was saying suddenly, putting his arms slowly around her, "You've surrounded yourself with ghosts, with the dead… All the things that go bump in the night!" _Not even half, bub… _"I think you need to realize that we have a good life now. Adam and Barb? Sure, they're family. But the rest of it?"

A small pause, and then a lightly dropped kiss on her neck. "Let's leave the dead, until we're dead too. This is our life! We only get one of those. We've got the rest of eternity to worry about ghosts. Including him."

"By then I hope he's exorcised." Olivia muttered hatefully, making Beetlejuice frown at her. "But if they haven't done it yet, they're probably not going to." But this said, she turned her face into the guy's arm, sighing, and nodding. "I won't go looking for trouble where there isn't any," She agreed softly, "I just hope to god… For Lydia's sake… There really isn't."

But Beetlejuice was still looking at the guy, Chuck, or whatever his name was. He didn't often hear any breather sounding that smart about life and death… And more than anything, it made him angry. This guy had everything that should have been his. The wife, the pulse… The happy little family.

Him though? He had Lyds, and these two breathers could drive themselves crazy, wondering why the kid was slipping away from them. It was maybe the worst revenge he could get, and sure as hell he'd enjoy it, but the best part was that this wasn't even why he was doing it.

No, he was doing it because she was everything her mother wasn't. Olivia? She stared into the darkness with admiration, maybe even without fear. Sure. But Lydia? She ran into the darkness with arms wide, head high, and a grin that could melt the heart of the scariest it had to offer. Without hesitation. Without regret. Some day, he'd have to tell her that…

And of course, she'd grow. She wouldn't be a kid forever… Though at the moment, he couldn't imagine her not being a kid.

The first drops of rain started falling, and Olivia glanced skyward with a little shudder, looking, if only she knew it, directly at him. It made him grin. Offering some soft excuse to her husband, the two went back inside, leaving him without anything to entertain him. A little annoyed, he just returned to Lydia's window, seeing if she was still determined to waste time she could be having fun with him, doing homework.

This time though, he'd only sat outside her window for a few seconds, before she abruptly got up from her desk, walked to the window, and looked straight at him, invisible or not. "And where'd you disappear to?" She challenged, amused. "Spying on my mom again?" He just chuckled, letting the girl hear him, amused that she'd known he was watching her all along, after all. "Well get in here, before you get soaked…"

She propped open the window, which wasn't really necessary, and he floated in amiably, giving himself a good shake once he was in the dryness of her room… And admittedly, soaking her a bit. "Erg… Beej!" She wiped her face off, and backed up a bit, considering him through narrow eyes. "Do you ever not act like a dog?"

"Watch it, babes…" He warned, grinning all the while.

Lydia rolled her eyes, going back to her desk. This time though, instead of diving back into her books, she sat there facing him, arms crossed loosely over the back of her tall chair, a thoughtful look on her face as she rested against its frame. "So I've got this assignment for history class…" She began, only to be cut off by a rude noise from the poltergeist.

"Like I give a damn." He pointed out, kicking off his boots. She eyed his thick brown socks for a moment, a bit surprised they weren't full of holes, before he snapped his fingers impatiently, drawing her eyes back to him. "So what's it got to do with me?"

"It gives you an opportunity to talk about yourself." She said simply, with a look that said she knew he'd love that. "See, I'm supposed to do research on the Revolutionary War…"

"Which one?" He interrupted, again.

At this, Lydia paused a moment, and then suddenly laughed. "Yeah, okay, I'll give you that…" She murmured enigmatically, before saying simply, "U.S., I assume. Anyway, I'm supposed to write a paper, as if I'm interviewing someone who lived through it. Creativity in the classroom." She shrugged. "Anyway, I was wondering…?" She gave him a sideways little grin, and tilted her head hopefully. "You wouldn't have happened to be around here back then, would you?"

"Here and there." She was right of course, he did love talking about himself, and just the prospect lightened his mood. "Kind of rough stuff for a kid to be writing about… But if you want all the gory bits and pieces, I'm your ghost!"

"Yeah… We'll just leave the ghost part…" And then she stopped suddenly, mid-sentence, and got a glint to her eye that he was already beginning to recognize. "No, you know what? Hell with that. She never _really _said it couldn't be an interview with a dead guy, right? And it'll be a lot more fun that way…"

Beetlejuice chuckled, hooking his elbow around his knee. Forget about keeping him on his toes, this kid was going to do her best to keep the whole _world_ on its toes. "Babes," He drawled carelessly, "I ever tell you you're real cute when you're messing with the system?" Lydia made a rude sound, but looked pleased. "Anyway… Sure, why not? Your skin."

The kid stuck her tongue out at him, before digging in her stuff for a clean sheet of paper. "All of it," She demanded, matter-of-factly, "I want her to turn color! I'll get a good grade, _and _freak the hell out of everyone at school!"

"Sure, babes." Beetlejuice cackled, leaning back a little as he prepared to tell his tale. "Anything you say…"

--


	13. Eplilogue, Promise of More

Beetlejuice… Will you be mine? May I possess you, heart, body and soul, rights and legalities? No? Well, it seems that I still don't own Beetlejuice… Too bad. Probably don't own Lydia either…

--

All right, here's the epilogue I promised... Heh, it probably won't be long before I post something else though... I got two new idea just last night, in addition to the... Well, I won't run out of writing for a while. Heck, maybe I'll set a new record in our little fandom, for the most Beetlejuice fics, what do you think? You guys have all been awesome, I got more reviews for this fic than any before, and please believe I'm grateful.

Rest assured, it shall not end here! Er, well, this one will... But everything shall not end here!

--

The Neitherworld had a particular smell to it, Lydia reflected, waiting this time, not at Grim-sum and Grim-sum, but by the front door of Beetlejuice's Roadhouse. Like autumn. Even more than autumn smelled like autumn. Beej was standing to the side, looking from time to time at his assortment of watches, though Vincent was not yet late, to her knowledge. But he was eager to be off and being Beetlejuice… She couldn't really blame him for that.

It seemed that the night was perfect already. The moons, unchanged in shape, seemed closer and spookier than ever, and the stars spread across the sky like someone had taken a bucket filled with diamonds, and dumped them carelessly across black silk. The shadows danced eerily in the lights from the heavens, like restless spirits, urging her to join them in their games.

She heard Vincent coming, before she saw him. The road to Beej's house wasn't a busy one, so the distinctive sounds of hoof-beats drew her eyes instantly, emerging from the cloying darkness several seconds before she could make out the prince's distinctive dark red carriage. Blood black, she'd called it, the first time she saw it. It looked even more the color now.

Two horses drew the carriage this time, both covered in heavy blankets that obscured all but their eyes. She wondered if it was an especially cold night, as it didn't feel so to her, and determined to ask Vincent about it… Well, after they spent a few minutes on hellos.

It surprised her a little, how nervous she was. Not just meeting her new boyfriend for a long evening together, but now, knowing he was a prince. Knowing she'd laughed at him, when he told her that before. How was a girl supposed to deal with royalty? Should she just keep treating him the way she had so far? It made her feel a little uneasy, the games she'd played with him now… But, he was still just Vincent, right?

As the carriage rolled to a stop, she would have stepped up into it, offering her hand, but Vincent made a small sound in his throat, stopping her. Puzzled, she watched as instead, he stepped down, and joined her in the road. "My Lydia…" He greeted her, dark eyes glinting with pleasure. "And…" Here he paused, finally noticing her company. "Beetlejuice?"

"Hey, don't mind me." The ghost with the most drawled casually, finally straightening up from his position, propped beside the door. "Just making sure our little trouble-maker doesn't get herself grabbed by some idiot, while she's waiting for you. Now, if you'll excuse me," He rubbed his hands together with a smirk, "I got some serious schmoozing to do." A handful of dead tulips appeared in his hands, along with a box of chocolate covered fire ants, before he disappeared from sight altogether.

"I suppose I should feel sorry for whoever he's decided to go 'schmoozing,'" Lydia murmured aloud, before turning her attention back to Vincent in amusement, "But as it is, I'm just grateful he didn't make a scene before he left." A low chuckle escaped her. "You know Beetlejuice."

"Actually," He denied slowly, with a bit of a frown, "I don't. And forgive me, he may be your friend, but I really have no wish to." Lydia rolled her eyes. "You won't be upset by this, I hope?"

"Nah. He's an acquired taste." Her humor spent, she considered him again, and her eyes lidded, just a little in thought. He didn't act like a prince. Not like he expected everyone to bow and grovel and worship before him, anyway. If anything, he was kind of like the awkward kid in class, the one no one noticed.

Vincent noticed her stare, and shifted a little, uncomfortably. "Is something wrong, Miss Lydia?" He murmured, not quite avoiding her gaze, but doing his best not to color under it. "Do I have something on my face?"

"Hmm." Lydia smiled suddenly, deciding that prince or not, he was still just Vincent. "I never did thank you properly for my new desk." She noted, suddenly feeling impulsive. When he tried to protest that she had, she crossed the distance between them, wrapped her arms around her date, and gave him a gentle squeeze. He froze, shocked, in her arms. "I told you I was going to do that…" She noted aloud, almost as if more to herself, as she drew back away.

Though Vincent had not hugged her back, now he looked at her in something like awe, absolute delight registering in even his drawn and worried face. Lydia just grinned, trying not to be embarrassed at her own daring, and ran her fingers through her soft mop of hair, letting it fall over her eyes. "Okay, now, you're staring at me like you've never been hugged before…" She noted, self-consciously taking a small step back.

"I- I apologize, Miss Lydia… I simply had not expected…" And before she could grow any more awkward over it, he suddenly stepped forward, put his arms quickly around her, and gave her a lingering, tender squeeze in return.

Now it was her turn to stand there awkwardly for a moment, before finally laughing, and hugging him back. Okay, she'd never been hugged by a boy before… Much less a prince. It felt pretty good. "My Lydia…" He whispered into her hair, holding on just maybe a breath longer than he needed to, which she didn't mind at all, before drawing back away, his cheeks burning. "That is…"

"Right." She agreed, before his head exploded or something. They stood there for a moment then, neither sure what to say, now that a line had been crossed. Rather than a lowering of defenses, now it seemed like maybe they were both just a little more uncertain than before.

But dwelling on uncertainties wasn't Lydia's style, so after only a moment of this, she gestured back to the carriage expectantly. "So, what's the plan? Another ride?"

"Ah… Um… Yes, in a manner of speaking." Vincent slowly seemed to come back to himself, and almost visibly, relax again. "Though not in the carriage." This made Lydia look at him a bit oddly, and for once, he preened under it. "You see, I have indeed given a great deal of thought to what you've told me, about your parents noticing such things as gifts. So I thought that perhaps a promise ring wouldn't be the best way to celebrate our new relationship after all."

Okay, that was more thought than she'd have figured he would put into it… A ring was a lot easier to hide than a desk after all. But he'd actually listened to her, so she figured that was a bonus in and of itself. "So no ring?" She was teasing him, a look of feigned sadness tugging at her lips, making him pause, and clearly wonder if maybe he'd misjudged the situation.

"Well… you may call him that, if you like." He murmured at last, rather enigmatically. "His previous owners though, referred to him as 'Steel Ripper…'" Lydia just stared at him in bafflement, her game forgotten. He'd he gotten her a_pet_? And _Steel Ripper_?

Vincent, with an attempt at showmanship that might have rivaled anyone but Beetlejuice, took a step back from her, bowed deeply, and with a grand flourish, pulled the blankets from both horses before her, at once. One was the same rather macabrely beautiful skeletal black beast from before, but the other…

Lydia found herself staring in awe at the dark hide of the midnight colored beast, blessed with a mane of pure gold that shone magnificently in the scant light. She knew this horse, from his dangerous split hooves, to his massive lower teeth, to the tiny horns that curled so gracefully atop his skull… It was the very racehorse she'd tried to get close to at the track, only to be shooed away. Vincent had taken her description of the creature, found it, and brought it to her. _Given_ it to her, if she understood right.

"My god…" The goth girl whispered, her mind reeling. Part of her was thinking, _and he was afraid they might notice a ring_? While another part just marveled at how much trouble he'd gone through for her, how much trouble he continued to go through for her at every turn, and suddenly she felt like kissing him.

"Do you like him? Vincent was asking softly, having come up close to her again, unnoticed. "This is the beast you spoke of, is it not?"

Lydia tore her eyes from her 'gift,' turned them to Vincent with absolute joy and bafflement, and all she could say was, "My parents are definitely going to notice him."

But Vincent just looked amused, assuming she was joking again. "He will be kept in my stables, of course, though you may visit him any time you wish." A small pause, then, "He is your horse, Lydia. All the papers are signed in your name."

"My name…" Suddenly it all just seemed like too much, too fast, and more than anything, she wanted to sit down. Instead she just grinned, the expression forming so slowly on her face, that the prince began to look worried. "I have to be careful what I say to you, don't I?" She mused, eyes dancing. "There's no telling what you'll do if I tell you… That I want one of the Neitherworld moons, or something!"

A silence followed this, as Vincent considered her seriously. "Would you like one?" He asked at last, absolutely straight-faced. "I could make it small enough to fit in the palm of your hand, if you wish."

Lydia just stared. She really _would_ have to be careful what she said around him. Slowly though, she let that too go. "But then I would miss looking up at it in the sky…" She teased, realizing maybe for the first time just how much this boy did like her, rather than dwelling on just how powerful he was. "So…" Her eyes turned back to the horse, "Can I pet him, or will he try to eat me?"

"I have had my best trainers working with him around the clock," Vincent assured her, every bit as serious as before, "Just to make certain that didn't happen." It was, at best, a sort of questionable reassurance.

But Lydia decided to take him at his word, and approached the horse with her hand slightly raised, laying it at last, gently, below his eye. He gave her a rather murderous look, as if he was really just waiting his chance, but didn't make a move under her, other than tossing his tail in annoyance. "I don't think he likes me…" She mused, a little regretful.

"Yes, but he will grow to like you, Lydia." Vincent assured her, coming up almost silently behind. "I am certain of it. There isn't a creature in the Neitherworld, whose heart you could not capture, if you put your mind to it…" His hands closed slowly over her shoulders, and she let a little shiver trace her spine. "What is it? Am I too cold?" He murmured, worriedly.

"No," She whispered, not drawing away from his touch, "You're just right." It didn't feel uncomfortable anymore. In a way she didn't understand, his cold touch made her feel warm.

"Lydia," He prompted at last, drawing away from her only with some regret, "I did hope to ride with you tonight." His eyes, as she turned to him, were watching her with a deep gentleness, and a warmth all his own. "You do know how to ride a horse, I trust?" He added, almost as an afterthought.

It hadn't occurred to her yet, that she'd actually have to ride the beast. "The last time I rode a horse," She informed him matter-of-factly, "I was six, and we went around in a circle, inside a fence. The pony then wasn't any bigger than I am now. So… no. I've got nothing."

He looked a little nonplussed at this, as if simply not understanding how someone could not know how to ride a horse. "Well," He said at last, still a bit bewildered, "We'll go slowly then. Shall I, give you a leg up, to start?"

She let him do just this, reaching for the saddle horn was that she'd held onto for dear life when she was six, only to find this creature's saddle very different, and lacking that reassuring feature. It was a rather clumsy mount, and her fingers tangled briefly in Vincent's hair, as she almost lost her balance, but then she was up. On the back of a very large horse, very ready to run, if the way he quivered under her was any indication. Then, he had been a race horse…

Lydia was frozen in fear nonetheless, a very real, tangible, not-that-strange fear, of being thrown from a horse's back. And then eaten by said horse. Okay, well maybe that last part was a little strange.

She watched as Vincent unhooked the horses from the carriage, which oddly enough, began moving back on its own way once freed, without another glance from the prince. Were the horses even necessary then? Was it just some sort of tradition?

Lydia really didn't feel any better, even when he was mounted beside her. She suddenly wished in fact, that he'd decided to try riding a single horse, between the two of them. But no, she supposed he wasn't the sort to impose so much, or surrender distance that easily. And while that didn't leave her entirely on her own, it was a little unsettling.

After a moment's consideration, he reached across, taking the reins from her gently. "I shall lead, if it please you, Miss Lydia." He offered kindly, receiving a grateful look in return for his offer, which seemed to please him. She had the sense that he didn't often get the chance to play the hero, and was finding he liked it. "Very well then," He prompted, almost lightly, "Shall we begin?"

The first few steps were more than a little strange, feeling this massive creature moving underneath her, her weight like a fly's upon his back. She was higher up than she really felt comfortable with, but plastered a smile on her face anyway, held onto Steel Ripper's mane with both hands, and told herself over and over, silently, that she wasn't about to die.

It was actually some time after this though, maybe upwards of twenty minutes, before she began to believe it, and relax. _Okay, this isn't so bad._ Her fingers loosened a little, which had to make the horse happy, and she let out a little sigh of relief… Only to see Vincent watching her, amused. "Well, I'm sure you were just fantastic, the first time you tried to ride a horse." She challenged him with a frown, just a bit irritated.

"I hardly remember myself, dear Lydia…" He admitted, after a lengthy moment, "But I am told that I took to it quite naturally." It seemed he too, was beginning to adjust to her sudden changes in mood, even, from the look he was giving her now, finding it endearing. "Then too, I had very good trainers."

This made Lydia forget her annoyance, and consider him again, remembering what she'd wanted to talk to him about before. "So," She ventured, her voice softer than usual, "You really are a prince, aren't you, Vincent?" He blinked in what seemed to be surprise, and looked at her a bit oddly. "I mean, I didn't know. Should I call you something, some sort of title?"

A pained expression crossed his face. "I would truly rather that you didn't, Miss Lydia." He admitted quietly, puzzling her. "All day and night, I am catered to with titles, with bows and deference, and… fear even, perhaps."

Again, a small pause followed this, as he seemed to consider how to explain his words more clearly. "You are the only one who makes me feel as if I am not some oddity, but in fact, no different from anyone else in the Neitherworld. And… the only one who seems to like me, not only for who I am, but despite _what_ I am, as well." His eyes met hers, pleadingly. "So if it is all the same to you… I would not have the girl I care for so much, call me 'prince' as well."

This set her back a little, surprised at every turn at how seriously he was taking this. Then her heart softened… It wasn't just girlfriends he'd had bad luck with, she was certain, it was any sort of friend at all. Who did you trust after all, when you wore the crown? Not that he actually wore one literally, but… Those around him probably never let him forget for a minute, that he wore it figuratively

"Vincent…" She murmured, more and more taken with the boy by the moment, "All right, then. Just Vincent." She reached out, laying her hand over his, where he held her reins.

He didn't quite seem content with this though, considering her still with some small trace of a frown. "And if you did not know, my Lydia… Who is it that told you?" He asked at last, seeming somehow displeased that she knew at all now, despite having tried to tell her himself. "Was it that friend of yours?"

Lydia paused, rolling back over how it was she knew, and wondering how much more trouble Beetlejuice would be in, if she told the prince the truth. "Well, it's kind of complicated…" She said at last, slowly. "I ran into these guys who… Well, actually, they were looking for me…" She shot a glance at her boyfriend, "Not nice guys, you know?"

Vincent clearly though, did not know, and began to look somewhat alarmed. "I would like you to tell me everything that happened." He said in a low voice, his body language suddenly more than a little protective. "Are you in some sort of trouble, my Lydia?"

"Not anymore…" She ventured hesitantly, before frowning, and looking at him seriously. "Look, I'll tell you, but you have to promise to keep it a secret, okay?" The look he gave her told her that it was in fact, not okay at all. "Look," She pressed desperately, "Beej really went out on a limb to save my butt. I don't want him getting in trouble. Promise that, okay?"

Slowly Vincent nodded, agreeing, and before she knew what she was doing, she was spilling the whole tale to him, so absorbed in getting the words right, to make Beetlejuice look like the hero, not the villain, that she didn't notice how dark his features were becoming, or how his eyes began to flash in what could only be called sheer fury.

When she reached the end of it, she sat there looking straight ahead, and waited for him to say something. Only he didn't. Not for upwards of a minute. And then, without warning, he let loose a string of startling expletives that she never imagined she would be hearing from the quiet-natured boy. He wasn't actually using any obscenities, but if anything, that made what he was actually saying, that much more disturbing.

He ended it in fact, with, "And I shall have their heads! In _jars_!" His face was flushed from his furious tirade, eyes absolutely burning in his face, before he belatedly noticed the way she was staring at him, her mouth open. Slowly, slowly, he seemed to come back to himself, and after a lengthy moment, even managed to look ashamed.

"Forgive me, Miss Lydia," He murmured, not quite meeting her eyes anymore, "I have no right to speak that way before a lady… Much less the lady I am courting."

"Shit." Was all she said, making him look at her in startlement, as if it was now his turn to be shocked at the words coming from her mouth. "You're kind of a scary mad, you know that?"

"I- I apologize…" He murmured quickly, looking aghast, "I didn't mean to frighten you…"

"You didn't frighten me." She assured him, a smile growing on her face, as common sense returned. "I said you were scary, not that I was scared. Wow, Vincent… I didn't think you got that excited over anything!" A light laugh fell from her lips as she admitted this, and gradually, Vincent relaxed, seeming to realize he'd done nothing wrong in her eyes.

"I certainly become so excited over you, my Lydia." He murmured, accepting her hand again, and giving it a little squeeze. Something was different about him now though, he'd lowered a wall, and in some way she didn't understand, she was responsible for this. When he smiled, it was without holding anything back, and when he looked at her… It made her heart sing.

"Vincent… I could really get used to being your girlfriend." She whispered, more to herself. If he heard in fact, he did not let on, maybe because he didn't know himself whether she'd wanted him to hear.

She realized only belatedly that she'd now been riding her horse rather naturally for several minutes, and had managed to completely forget she was doing so. It was just one more strange thing in a night that seemed to promise an endless supply of them. Vincent was, incredible. She could easily see him being her first love. Like Beetlejuice, the prince would surely amaze her time and again, and she certainly had no complaints about it.

Strangely, that thought left her comparing the two, who really had nothing in common, other than both being dead. But they both cared about her too, a lot. They were willing to go above and beyond for her. She wasn't certain herself why. But she loved it, and hoped it never changed. Vincent… Vincent, her first boyfriend. And Beetlejuice… Beetlejuice, who somewhere along the way, had started to feel like her _best _friend.

_Maybe someday, I'll even tell him that_, she mused, lidding her eyes, and enjoying the soft breezes of the Neitherworld, bringing the crisp smells she loved associating with October. She didn't need to tell him yet though. No telling how he'd react. And she had all the time in the world, she reflected happily. _All the time in both worlds…_

Just the way she liked it.

_--_


End file.
